


My Own Blood

by CloudMonkey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, F/F, F/M, Incest, M/M, Minor Character Deaths, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, mentions of abuse, misuse of Polyjuice, mostly Tom's POV so we can hear his sick thoughts lmao, some degree of selfcest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:05:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudMonkey/pseuds/CloudMonkey
Summary: Tom loves his twin. But it isn't how a brother should love his sister. It isn't even how a man should love his wife. It's sick and twisted, but for them, it's perfect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This exists because I’m a sick bastard. Also, let’s pretend that the Gaunt family isn’t living in poverty. Please mind the tags. Mind the grammar too lmao. My English isn’t the best.

When the twins are born, they are immediately inseparable. Almost unsettlingly so.

Tom Riddle Jr. comes first, crying and struggling to get away from the healer. He keeps reaching out toward his mother and wouldn’t calm down.

Hermione Riddle comes next, her cries eclipsing those of her brother’s. Both of them thrashed and flailed about, and only when they are near each other would they quiet down.

When Merope Riddle lays her eyes on them, she could feel her exhaustion disappear. She now has two beautiful twins and promises herself that she will love and protect her children until the day she dies.

And, she thinks hopefully, now that she and Tom Riddle Sr. have children, he won’t be able to leave her anymore. Duty dictates that a father should support his children. It’s the right thing to do after all. She will stop spiking his drinks with Amortentia starting tomorrow.

Merope sighs happily. Starting a family with the man she loves most is a dream come true. The love potions and the Imperius Curses were worth it in the end.

* * *

As soon as Tom Riddle Sr. is lucid, he wastes no time beating the witch who enslaved his mind. He couldn’t see anything apart from the red that clouds his eyes. He considers murdering his so-called _children_ but decides against it at the last minute. He can’t bear to be in the same room with his rapist any longer.

He punches and kicks her until she’s pleading for her life. Once he is sure that the witch wouldn’t be able to control him any longer, that she wouldn’t even be able to lift her wand with her broken fingers, he leaves.

He leaves with the wish that the witch, whatever her name even is, dies regretting even knowing him.

During the time when Merope was being beaten within an inch of her life, the twins lay beside each other, holding hands and sleeping peacefully.

* * *

Alas, Merope did not die. She promised to take care of her children after all. She survived after crawling to a healer and only then did she return to the twins.

She had hoped that Tom would have them live in the Riddle House once he saw their children but clearly, she was gravely mistaken.

With nowhere to go, Merope has no choice but to return to Gaunt Manor, where her abusive father and brother reside.

When she goes back to the manor, however, it is fortunately empty of inhabitants. Whatever happened to her family, Merope doesn’t wish to know. All that matters is that her children will grow without the influence of both Marvolo and Morfin Gaunt who were hateful people.

Years pass and Merope becomes more and more competent with magic now that her father and her brother aren’t there to traumatize her. She wishes that they never come back.

She is content and happy with her twins, though sometimes she contemplates on whether to _imperio_ Tom again. Whenever she remembers that he left their children though, she banishes the thought.

Likewise, the twins are happy with her too. Or, at least Hermione is. Every time Merope enters a room, Hermione squeals _Mother!_ with excitement and love shining through her eyes. Tom is more subdued, merely nodding to her in greeting. Even annoyed, sometimes, when Hermione shifts her attention from him to their mother.

The twins are always joined at the hip. Merope almost never saw them away from each other. They sleep together, bathe together, read together, and anything that could be done they did together. She never discouraged it. Her brother abused her since she was a child so the twins’ relationship is fine with her.

Besides, she doubts it will continue once they’re older.

* * *

Tom Riddle adores his sister.

She’s bright, kind, smart, and _his._

She loves books just like he does, she’s powerful with her magic just like he is, and she loves him just as he loves her. She’s perfect for him.

He once read in a book that a third of the time, twins are of the same sex and that they look the same. After he read that, a resentment for his mother birthed in his heart. It wasn’t enough that their mother had to be so pathetic that their father left her, it still wasn’t enough that she interrupted his time with Hermione, and now she couldn’t even make Tom and Hermione identical twins.

Tom finds Hermione the most beautiful person he has ever seen. Thankfully, the twins didn’t acquire their looks from Merope’s ugly mug. But Tom still finds himself wistfully imagining Hermione wearing his face, or him wearing his sister’s face.

After all, what better told the world that they belong to each other than wearing each other’s faces?

And whenever they bathe, whenever he and Hermione are bare to each other, Tom is painfully aware of the difference in their bodies. They have the same lips, the same shape of their eyes, their hair cut just above the shoulder, but Hermione’s nose is smaller, and her eye color is different from his, her face is smaller, and her hair is thicker and curlier.

And where there should be something dangling in between her legs, there is a slit instead.

But that part worries him the least. No one but him and his mother have seen the difference between what’s on his and Hermione’s crotch. He can hide those parts but he can’t hide their eye color or their noses or the size of there faces. Hermione is taller too.

And he damns his mother again and again for not birthing identical twins.

Tom and Hermione usually spend their time in the Gaunt library. They read books from cover to cover and practice their magic. They don’t have wands though, so they spend hours trying wandless magic with little success. They still manage to do it however, it merely takes at least an hour to get it right.

(It takes them at least an hour to levitate a book but the twins are nothing if not persistent.)

Hermione asked their mother to borrow her wand once but Merope refused them, telling them that they’re too young to practice magic and what if they got into an accident.

Hermione’s face fell and she clutched her brother’s hand tighter as they accept their mother’s reprimand.

Tom almost hit their mother for upsetting Hermione. Although, if Hermione continues to be disappointed with Merope from denying her education (and he knows just how obsessed Hermione is with learning), it will distance her from their mother.

And Tom will be there, never denying her from learning, and Hermione will love him even more and love their mother less and less until her heart will only be for Tom.

With Hermione disliking Merope’s treatment of their education, Tom makes plans of winning Hermione even more.

He steals Merope’s wand, and stupid thing that she is, she never realizes that her son is the one responsible for it. She thinks that she merely misplaced it and spends hours looking for it. Whenever she is to search the library, Tom and Hermione hide the wand, pretending to be obedient Gaunt children reading about Salazar Slytherin.

Merope always manages to find her wand just before dinner.

Tom, her kind son, never fails to help her prepare dinner. He sometimes persuades Hermione to help too and grins every time she pouts.

Her children are nice kids.

That’s what she thinks anyway.

But Tom helps with the food not because he’s feeling nice. He helps with the food because he plans to kill Merope one day and he will need to know how to feed him and his sister once their mother is dead.

The Gaunt Manor is large. Still, it’s one person too many.

Hermione’s heart has one person too many and Tom can’t have that.

He will kill Merope as soon as he believes that he and Hermione can live without help.

He’ll make her death painless. She raised them after all. It’s the least he can do.

And so Tom obediently assists his mother to prepare food, all the while waiting for the perfect time to murder his mother and make it look like an accident.

He makes Hermione help too because he won’t cook for them every time once they have Gaunt Manor to themselves. Tom may love to spoil Hermione but that doesn’t give her a reason to evade household chores once they’re finally alone.

Plates are placed on the dining table and dinner is served.

Merope sits on one side and the twins sit across from her.

“Tom? Hermione?” Merope raises an eyebrow in warning. She and the twins have had this conversation a countless number of times yet they still insist on doing it.

 Tom glowers at her and Merope fights not to drop her eyes in submission. She is supposed to be their mother, she can’t cower from her own son’s stare.

“No,” is Tom’s only answer before shoving food into his mouth with his left hand. Only a bit of sauce splashes on the corner of his lips this time. He’s getting better at eating one-handed. He and Hermione are getting better at eating one-handed.

Meanwhile, Hermione’s cheeks stain red. She says, “It’s okay, mum. We don’t make much of a mess anymore.” She stabs her beef using the fork she held in her right hand, attempting to cut it and ultimately failing. Giving up on cutting it to pieces, she takes a bite of the uncut beef instead.

And Merope will never understand why the twins won’t ever let go of each other, even in situations where they have to use both of their hands.

They sit across from her, their chairs so close to each other there’s barely any space between them.

Their legs, thighs, and arms touch. And most importantly, their hands are clasped tight, resting between their thighs with their fingers intertwined.

It’s uncomfortable for the both of them to eat with one hand but they have to make do if they don’t want to let go of each other.

At first, the food went flying. There was more food scattered around the table than food properly placed on their plates. Tom had trouble (and still has!) by using only his left hand, he is right-handed after all. He constantly dropped his utensil from gripping them too softly.

All the while Merope has to clean up their mess after every meal.

“Tom?”

Tom hears Hermione call his name and says, “What?”

“How about you help me cut my food and I’ll help with yours?” All these years of eating one-handed and they never helped each other with their food. There have been instances where they would wipe a bit of sauce here and there on their faces but that was the extent of it. Perhaps if they try it this way they’ll have an easier time eating.

Of course, they won’t have any trouble at all if they used both hands like normal people. But Tom would rather cut off their arms than let go. Hermione’s feelings aren’t as strong as Tom’s but she doesn’t want to let go of her brother either.

Tom nods. “That just might help.” He picks up the knife beside his plate and reaches over to Hermione. She steadies the beef with her fork while Tom cuts it in uniform pieces. After he is finished, Hermione does the same to his food.

It’s easier and there’s little to no mess.

They look at each other in delight and Merope just sighs.

Looks like the twins won’t be giving up very soon.

* * *

Their Hogwarts letters come and Hermione and Tom couldn’t be any happier.

Ever since they’ve read about Salazar Slytherin and how their ancestor helped build Hogwarts, the twins have been excited to attend classes in the school that rightfully belongs to them.

Hermione imagines structured classes where she and her twin won’t have to bumble around the Gaunt library, looking for books that aren’t too advanced for them, trying to learn about magic as best as they can, and Tom imagines ruling the school.

Tom has no doubt that he and his sister will top everyone at Hogwarts, the only question is if Tom will beat Hermione of if Hermione will beat him for first place.

 _Maybe we can have a bet._ Tom thinks of all that he can make Hermione do for him but he is left with nothing. They have already done together what can be done together.

Oh well. He’ll think of something when the time comes.

“Tom...” Hermione calls to him in a worried tone. “I just remembered.”

Tom squeezes her hand in an attempt to reassure her. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

She’s biting her bottom lip so Tom puts down his Hogwarts letter to smooth his thumb on her lip, releasing it from her teeth. Hermione sometimes bites her lips too hard when she’s anxious or in deep thought, so it’s up to Tom to make sure she doesn’t bruise her lips too much.

Hermione takes his hands so they rest on her cheeks. “Boys and girls have separate dormitories. We can’t sleep together anymore. We can’t bathe together anymore either.” Her eyes are shiny and her lips tremble.

Tom freezes.

He didn’t think of that.

“We have Slytherin’s blood! They can make an exception for us,” he argued. “I won’t let them separate you from me.”

Hermione seems to calm down a bit from his words and smiles slightly.

But then a stern look goes over her eyes. “Tom! Just because our ancestor helped create Hogwarts doesn’t mean we can break the rules easily,” she scolds him. “And it’s precisely _because_ we have Slytherin’s blood that we have to make an example to everyone. We have to be model students.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “We can do whatever we want, Hermione. Hogwarts is _ours._ ”

Hermione huffs. “Rules are there for a reason, Tom! If there weren’t any rules, students will go wild, doing whatever they want which will probably endanger everyone. And worse, what if we get _expelled!_ ”

Oh, Hermione, Hermione. His sister is such a stickler for rules.

“We only want to sleep together. It’s not like we’re going to start cursing anyone who breathes badly toward us. And no one expels a student for sharing a bed with a sibling. That’s just stupid.” But he can still see that Hermione is going to continue being stubborn so Tom tries a different tactic.

He forces his eyes to shine with tears and furrows his brow. After that, he steps closer to her until their noses are an inch apart, let her have the front seat to his ‘sad’ expression.

Hermione raises an eyebrow at his act. Why is he doing this? He knows that she can see through him.

“Don’t you love me, Hermione?” he whispers.

And Hermione blinks in shock, momentarily forgetting about his mask, and her mouth opens in indignation that he still has to ask that. “Wha-? Of course I-“

“I’ll be lonely without you.” He brushes his nose against hers. Physical contact has more chances of convincing someone to do what they want. “I don’t want a bed without you there, Hermione. It won’t have your warmth. I’ll be _so cold._ ”

He sees her faltering so he continues, “And you like me hugging you while we sleep. You like my scent, you said. No monsters under the bed can harm you if I’m there with you.” He pauses for a moment to let her digest his words. “You like my snores,” he teases lightly.

Her cheeks redden. “I do not.” And when she sighs resignedly, Tom knew he won.

Hermione says, “ _Fine_ , Tom. We’ll sneak arou-” Tom suddenly pecks her lips and she can’t help but laugh because he can’t even wait for her to finish. “We’ll sneak around,” she repeats. Then her gaze turns teasing. “But only because you’re such a baby that you cry when I’m not with you.”

And Tom won’t let her speak anymore because he’s tickling her until she can’t breathe. How dare she tell him that he’s a crybaby when he’s not with her! It’s not like she’s calm when he’s not around her either.

Tom doesn’t know what Hermione’s worried about anyway. It’s not like they’re going to get caught. Both of them are going to be in Slytherin no doubt, their dormitories will only be a few steps away. It will be a piece of cake to slip into each other’s beds.

Tom grins.

 _As if_ he’s going to let anything separate him from his twin.

* * *

Tom stares at the dark strands of hair at his feet in horror.

His head feels strangely light. Where there should be hair tickling the top of his shoulders, its length is reduced to the nape of his neck.

“You look nice, Tom,” Merope, **_that idiot_** , comments after she ambushed the twins, cast a _petrificus totalus_ on Tom, and proceeded to massacre his hair.

Tom clenches his fists. He refuses to look at himself in the mirror in front of him. Because if he does, he won’t see Hermione in his reflection anymore and he can’t accept that.

He and Hermione looked similar enough with their hair at the same length but now his mother made it all wrong _wrong **WRONG.**_

That stupid **_bitch._**

The spell lifts and he wastes no time shoving himself off from his mother and the blasted chair she forced him onto. He takes deep breaths to control his temper. _In. Out. In. Out._ He won’t look at his mother. If she even makes the mistake of appearing in his vision he might not be able to restrain himself from strangling her.

He and Hermione had the same hairstyle for a reason. They had to resemble each other. They had to let the world know that they’re twins with similar faces. They had to let the world know that they _belong to each other_.

Tom tries to blink away his tears of frustration, and when that doesn’t help, he rubs his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

And Merope isn’t sure how to react. She cut his hair because it’s more proper and common for a wizard to have short locks. And proper wizards don’t imitate their sister’s looks because of their obsession with their sibling.

But most importantly, he looks more like Tom Riddle Sr. this way.

Merope reaches out a shaky hand toward him to comfort him. She begins, “Tom, don’t-”

“ ** _SHUT UP!”_**

Accidental magic threw Merope against the wall. Tom hears her head hit the wall but sadly he didn’t hear her skull crack from the impact.

He stands there rigidly in the room for who knows how long. He wants to turn around, find Merope, and wrap his hands around her throat. He said he would give her a clean death but she doesn’t deserve that anymore.

_How dare she?_

“Tom?” Hermione’s worried voice snaps him out of his violent thoughts.

When Hermione’s hand finds Tom’s, he releases a shaky breath.

They stay there for a few minutes, waiting for Tom to calm down while Merope lies on the floor knocked out cold. Hermione would have checked if their mother is alright but she knows that Tom needs her more.

Besides, she’s a little angry at her mother too.

Once she is positive that her brother won’t blow up on her, she says, “You look more handsome like this.” She brushes her fingers over the nape of his neck, tugging a few strands of hair. “I think I like you more this way,” she adds shyly.

Tom’s expression softens. “I look more different from you now though. As twins, we’re supposed to have the same face.”

And Hermione is conflicted because she, like Tom, wants to be as similar as she can be to her twin. She likes seeing Tom’s hair length the same as hers. If they notice even an inch of difference on their hair length, they cut it, righting it immediately.

But the new cut frames Tom’s face better. His features are more boyish and Hermione appreciates it in a different way than from when they are alike.

Hermione hums as she inspects her brother’s new makeover. “The more I look, the more I like this haircut on you.” She flicks at a curl that fell to his forehead. “Maybe it won’t be too bad.”

Tom frowns. “Even if we resemble each other less?” He feels slightly betrayed. He had always thought that Hermione shared his sentiments on their appearance.

“Yes,” she answers. Then she huffs in irritation. “I hate how mother just did this to you without our permission but what’s done is done.” She runs her eyes over him again. “Still, you’re more handsome now and that’s never a bad thing.”

Tom smirks. Well, if Hermione likes it so much then who is he to refuse her? She admitted to hating their mother for changing his hairstyle so that’s enough for now. If ever his hair grows longer again, he and Hermione will decide next time on how to proceed with it.

There’s still the issue of their mother, however.

“We should get revenge on mother,” Tom says. “She needs to learn that she can’t just do whatever she wants with us.”

“She’s our mother so she has the right to interfere sometimes,” Hermione points out. “But yes, she still shouldn’t have done that. What are we going to do with her?” She may be nicer to their mother than Tom but Hermione is still as vengeful as her twin, if not more so.

The twins leave Merope’s bedroom, discussing the details of their revenge. Tom still hasn’t looked at the mirror. He will, once he’s ready. But for now, he’ll stall.

The next day, Merope wakes up to find herself bald.

It was Hermione’s idea and Tom’s execution.

* * *

“You’re not coming with us,” are Tom’s first words to Merope after three days of ignoring her, of pretending that she didn’t exist.

Tom may admit to no one but his sister that his new haircut suits him nicely but he’s still livid with his mother for it.

So, no. She won’t be accompanying them to Diagon Alley to help the twins with their school supplies. Tom and Hermione are already 11 years old, they’re old enough to do their own shopping.

And, in Tom’s opinion, they’re old enough to take care of themselves without a mother. It’s just that he still doesn’t have a concrete plan on how to make it seem like an accident. A book in the Gaunt library mentioned a killing curse but as much as Tom wanted to use it, he can’t because he hasn’t practiced it yet. What if he botches the spell? What if someone finds out that he used the killing curse?

But Tom is a patient boy. He will wait.

“We can take care of ourselves, mom,” Hermione says. “It’s just Diagon Alley. You’ve taken us there before so we know the way.”

 _Merlin_ , their mother is insistent. Can’t she tell that she and Tom want to spend time with only each other in Diagon Alley? They rarely go outside, and when they do it’s always with Merope. And people can’t help but stare at them because- well, Hermione is a little guilty to be thinking of this- their mother isn’t really the most attractive or normal looking person.

Her eyes stared in opposite directions and now she’s bald.

“You’ll need a wand to enter Diagon Alley.”

Oh. Right. They forgot.

Hermione sighs. She was looking forward to browsing the stores in Diagon Alley, especially Flourish and Blotts, with only Tom. Merope didn’t really appreciate waiting for them for long periods of time every time they went to the bookshop.

Tom doesn’t give a shit whether they need a wand or not. “You’ll drop us off at Diagon Alley then leave us.” His tone is cold and final and Merope wants to cry.

Why does her son have to hate her so? But if doing whatever her son wanted means that he’ll hate her less, she’ll do it.

She drops them off at Diagon Alley, lingering at the entrance, hoping that the twins will change their mind about her not coming with them.

They don’t.

* * *

Diagon Alley is bustling with wizards and witches, which makes sense because the school term is near.

Tom holds on to Hermione’s hand tighter. He won’t allow her to separate from him.

They buy their wands, cauldrons, gloves, potions sets, and other paraphernalia. Their next stop is Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. The twins agreed that they will go to Flourish and Blotts last. They’d rather have finished everything else before browsing for books since they spend at least an hour for that.

They agreed not to buy a familiar, though they did stop by Magical Menagerie to take a look around. Hermione fell for a half-cat half-kneazle that looked absolutely hideous Tom had to question his sister’s tastes. While Hermione was cooing over the abomination, Tom saw the most beautiful python he’d ever seen.

He and Hermione conversed with the snake for a few minutes, which earned them curious looks from people who were also taking a look around.

Still, they didn’t buy anything from the store.

The twins don’t need another companion. They already have each other.

They don’t really need another companion, Tom repeats to himself as he glowers from where he’s being measured at Hermione’s new acquaintance. Hermione has already been fitted so she’s just waiting for Tom to be finished.

 _Neville Longbottom_.

Tom sneers at the name. Who wants to be called _Longbottom?_

Look at the pathetic boy.

He stutters and blushes while he’s talking to Tom’s sister, looking at her as if she’s the reincarnation of Merlin himself. Though, Tom cannot fault the boy. Hermione _is_ perfect. It probably helps that the boy’s grandmother is verbally abusing him right in front of them too.

Hermione’s just nice because she feels bad for him.

_You’re not special, Longbottom._

Tom resolves to make sure that Hermione and Longbottom have as little interaction in Hogwarts as possible. Preferably none, but he can’t scratch out the possibility that they and Longbottom might get the same classes.

If Longbottom keeps looking at her like that then he may just pluck the boy’s eyes out from their sockets.

“All finished!” announces Madam Malkin.

_Finally!_

Tom barely resists snatching his new robes in his hurry to interrupt Longbottom and his sister.

When Tom approaches, Hermione’s attention immediately switches from Longbottom to her brother, even though Longbottom is still in the middle of saying something.

Tom notes smugly that no matter who she’s with, Tom will always have her attention first.

Just as the center of Tom’s world is Hermione, the center of Hermione’s world is Tom.

His hand clasps Hermione’s with practiced ease, like pieces of a puzzle perfectly fitting together. He gives Hermione a small smile which she returns.

He turns to Longbottom, his expression cooler. “Hello. I’m Tom Riddle,” he greets. “Hermione is _my_ sister.”

He doesn’t shake the hand extended toward him until Hermione nudges him.

Longbottom flushes at the blatant display of disrespect. “I’m Neville Longbottom. Nice to meet you.”

Tom doesn’t bother to return the sentiment. He ignores the insect and says to Hermione, “Let’s go get our books.”

He can tell that Hermione is bothered by his behavior. She’s too nice to other people unless they antagonize her or are her definition of bad people. And Tom’s not a fan of this aspect of her. What if someone takes advantage of her? Tom knows _he_ takes advantage of it.

Rarely he wishes that Hermione had his distrust of people. But only rarely. He loves Hermione because of who she is and not because she is a perfect reflection of him.

He might be a little contradictory because he wanted them to look the same, but being identical was about their ownership to each other. It was a way of telling the world that they have the same blood, that they belong to each other, that they came into this world together and that nothing can separate them.

But Tom avoids thinking about that. He’s still angry with his mother.

“Okay,” Hermione says. She says her goodbyes to Longbottom before Tom tugs her hand to leave the store.

It’s only when they’re in Flourish and Blotts that Tom realized that Longbottom is only the first of many who will want Hermione’s friendship. And he can’t stop Hermione because she’s really nice unless provoked, especially to charity cases like Longbottom. Tom only hopes that Hermione’s bossy nature will push away potential friendships.

Tom sighs. It’s a good thing they’ll both be in Slytherin. That way he’ll be able to watch over her like a dragon guarding its eggs.

The twins leave Diagon Alley with a few extra books.

* * *

Tom rubs a hand over his face.

 _Of course_ Hermione had to help Longbottom find his toad.

Tom is despising Longbottom more and more by the second.

* * *

No matter how many books he read, nothing could prepare Tom for the beauty of Hogwarts. Nothing can compare to the awe he felt as they approach the castle using a boat, sailing across the lake toward what will be their new home.

Once they reach inside, they are greeted with an enchanted ceiling that shows the sky. Candles float in midair, illuminating everything in soft light.

Tom is proud to call Hogwarts his.

All the first years fall in line as they wait for them to be called for their sorting. Tom wrinkles his nose at the ratty thing that is supposed to be the Sorting Hat. He has read about Gryffindor’s Hat but he didn’t think it would look that ancient.

He waits in boredom as one by one, their line lessens bit by bit. He examines the other first years that were sorted into Slytherin. One needs to be acquainted with their future housemates after all: who will be of use and who will not.

One of the first Slytherins are named Crabbe and Goyle, and judging by their vacant eyes, Tom is sure that no one is home inside their heads.

There were two near hatstalls. Tom is surprised to see Longbottom up there with his head buried in the hat in what was almost 5 minutes. The hat probably couldn’t decide whether to put the boy in Hufflepuff or in the garbage can outside the hall.

Imagine Tom’s shock when the hat exclaimed _GRYFFINDOR!_

But then again, Gryffindors are known for their stupidity so maybe Tom shouldn’t have been surprised.

The other near hatstall was some boy with messy hair and round glasses who went to Gryffindor, Tom couldn’t bother to remember his name.

“Riddle, Hermione!” It’s Hermione’s turn. _Finally_ they can sit at their table now.

Hermione squeezes his hand and gives him a kiss on his cheek. When she lets go, her fingers linger on his fingertips, not liking how she needs to be separated from him even for a few seconds.

She sits on the stool then her eyes are covered from Tom once the hat settles on her head.

A few seconds pass while the hat digs through her brain and Tom can’t help tapping his foot in irritation because, clearly, Hermione is a Slytherin. Slytherin’s blood goes to Slytherin house, as if that even needs to be considered.

But then a minute passes and another, and it occurs to Tom that Hermione might be a hatstall.

_Stupid hat!_

Fine. Tom will admit that Hermione doesn’t much have the characteristics of a Slytherin. She’d rather confront a problem head-on instead of manipulating the variables surrounding the problem for a perfect solution.

Fine. Hermione is too much a stickler for rules, and when she _does_ decide not to be, she’d rather break them than bend them.

Fine. Hermione is much too bold to be a Slytherin. Instead of charming her way out of something to get what she wants, she’d rather force them to see her way until she becomes a banshee when no one will listen to her.

But Tom thinks of Crabbe and Goyle and he greatly doubts that _they’re_ Slytherin material.

Maybe the hat is considering Ravenclaw because Hermione loves books and knowledge and studying. The hat will probably consider Ravenclaw for him too.

But that doesn’t matter because they’ll end up in their ancestor’s house anyway.

“ _GRYFFINDOR!”_

Hermione meets his horrified eyes with her own.

The Gryffindors cheer loudly for the new addition to their house but Hermione only manages a weak smile toward them. She takes a seat beside Longbottom and the messy-haired boy.

“Riddle, Tom!”

He is numb.

Professor McGonagall has already placed the hat on his head when he realizes that he should give the Sorting Hat a piece of his mind. Perhaps he could convince it to re-sort his sister or to sort him to where his sister is, even if it meant that he’ll be with some rowdy Gryffindors.

How dare it separate him from Hermione?!

If they’re from different houses then how will they eat together if they’re supposed to be in separate tables? How will they sleep together if they have separate dormitories? How will they bathe together if her bathroom is in a tower and his is in the dungeons? How will they-

But the hat barely gave him 10 seconds. It didn’t even consider him for Ravenclaw when the hat announced, “ _SLYTHERIN!”_

**_Bloody hat!_ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn't as dark as I wanted it to be. There's always next chapter though.

Tom sits down at the Slytherin table. He makes polite conversation, plays around with his utensils, and chew a bit of food here and there. He doesn’t use his right hand.

Throughout the welcoming feast, his eyes don’t stray far from Hermione and neither does she. He makes eye contact with a few people in his table to maintain his mask of politeness but as soon as he’s positive that no one can call him out for not paying attention to them, his focus goes back to Hermione.

The most that they can do right now is just stare at each other since they can’t be beside each other tonight.

The feast comes to a close and Tom is one of the first to stand up from their table. He starts to move to Hermione’s side but an older Slytherin stops him. He has a badge that says _prefect_.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

Tom gives him a polite smile, or as polite it can be when inside, he just wants to shove the Slytherin away for blocking his path to Hermione. “I just want to see if my sister’s doing fine. She’s by the Gryffindor table.”

The prefect sneers at the mention of Gryffindor.

“I’m sorry but that will have to wait. I’m to show you and the other first years to the Slytherin common room.” The prefect raises a brow. “You don’t want to be lost on your first day now?”

Tom makes his expression carefully blank. “No, I don’t.” He wonders if he can get away with kicking the older Slytherin. Probably not.

His gaze slides to Hermione again to see that she and her housemates are following another Gryffindor who is likely a prefect too.

It seems that nothing can be done for tonight.

The Slytherin common room is beautiful. Shades of green decorate the room, giving it a sense of peace. One can see what is under the lake through the windows and the sofas and chairs elegant in design.

Tom registers none of that.

He goes straight to bed so he can sleep this tragedy away. Once he wakes up he’ll find his sister immediately and talk to her and hold her hand and kiss her and scold her for not convincing the blasted hat to put her in Slytherin.

He waits for sleep to take him

He waits and he waits.

But his bed is too large. It’s too cold, even with the blankets covering him. There’s no smell of flowers.

Hermione isn’t beside him.

There’s nothing here.

Nothing.

Nothing.

He stares at the canopy of his bed and wills himself to sleep so he can at least erase the feeling of emptiness inside him however temporary.

Perhaps Hermione is crying right now. She must be.

Should he be crying too?

But he only feels empty.

Morning comes and Tom didn’t get a blink of sleep.

* * *

The first few months are hard on the twins.

They couldn’t sleep properly. Hermione is so used to Tom hugging her from behind whenever they sleep that her back feels so cold now that she’s alone in her bed. Tom has taken to hugging a pillow. But the pillow isn’t warm, it doesn’t have thick hair that somehow manages to make its way to his mouth, it doesn’t snore.

 _Why are you eating like that?_ Draco Malfoy asked him once in his snobbish tone.

Tom didn’t answer him. But he did pick up another utensil with his right hand, the hand that should have been holding Hermione.

A small part of him died that day, and from Hermione’s miserable expression when she also used her other hand to eat, a part of her died too.

Gone were the days where they were always together, where the only one interrupting them was their mother, and Tom could easily convince Merope to go away.

They say that when a person loses a limb, they’ll still be able to feel it even though there’s nothing there, like a phantom limb.

That’s what Tom is experiencing these days. He sometimes catches himself reaching for Hermione before realizing that she isn’t beside him.

He considers Hermione as an extension of himself. They’ve been together since they were born and they never left each other’s side.

So his question is, how does one stand to be separated from a part of yourself?

Still, if there’s even a slight chance of getting some time together, they take it.

Slytherins have Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms together with Gryffindors. He and Hermione always partner up or sit together. The classes are surprisingly easy. Perhaps it’s because they scoured the Gaunt library, or maybe it’s because they finished reading all the required books even before school started.

Their first lesson in Charms was how to execute a _Wingarium Leviosa_ and Tom wanted to cackle with glee.

Just a swish and flick, Professor Flitwick said.

You know who else can use the levitation charm wandlessly? Why, the Riddle twins, of course!

Tom likes to think that he and Hermione are geniuses and that everybody else are idiots.

A boy from Gryffindor managed to set his quill on fire with a levitation charm, and Tom still can’t believe how Hermione ended up in that blasted house.

During their free time, they’re either at the library or wandering around the castle, exploring Hogwarts for secret passages and rooms. They already found a hidden room in the third floor!

And since it’s unlikely that anyone will interrupt them there, the twins have claimed it as their own. He and Hermione hardly leave the library but whenever they want to be alone, they use the hidden room.

Now, for example.

When Tom leaves his last class for the day, he finds Hermione waiting for him outside the classroom. To anybody else, she’s just a girl waiting for her brother impatiently. Her arms are crossed and she taps her foot in a rhythm.

To Tom, however, he sees how stiff she holds herself, he sees one of her fists clenching and unclenching, her hand unused to holding nothing.

She needs him.

He reaches out to her and her body relaxes.

Once their hands connect, Tom lets out a relieved breath. They’re whole again.

He needs her too.

They head to the third floor and enter the hidden room.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asks after he locks the door.

Tom gets his breath knocked out of him when Hermione suddenly lunges at him, squeezing his torso.

“I miss you,” she whispers against his heart.

And Tom is filled with hatred for the Sorting Hat again. If it weren’t for that garbage, he and Hermione wouldn’t have suffered like this.

“I miss you too,” he says. He wraps an arm around her and strokes her head. They stay embraced for a while until Tom repeats his question, “Now what’s wrong, really?”

What’s wrong is that aren’t in the same house. What’s wrong is that she can’t hold onto her brother’s hand day and night anymore. What’s wrong is that she feels relaxed now that her brother is hugging her but he just won’t stay still.

Hermione doesn’t answer him. She’s content to be in his arms again and Tom is ruining it with his uncontrollable mouth. Her brother so dearly loves to hear himself talk.

“Just shut up, Tom.”

He rolls his eyes. “I bet you’re stressed with classes and now you’re here to cry about it.” He restrains himself from smirking when Hermione lifts her head from his chest to glare at him. “Our classes aren’t even hard. Or am I the only one who finds it easy? And I thought we’re smart twins. Looks like I’m the only smart one and you’re the dumb-”

Hermione wrenches herself from his arms and starts hitting him. Tom laughs as he attempts to defend himself and- ow! Damn it! His sister punches hard.

“I’m. Not. Dumb!” She hits him after every word. Her brother is still laughing. Why is he still laughing?! Her intelligence isn’t up for debate. She’s always smart! “You’re just a prat!”

“And you’re my dumb twin!” He sees an opening and flees from Hermione’s attacks.

Hermione chases him around the room and sometimes comes close to catching him but Tom always manages to slip away. His other half might be stronger but Tom is faster.

He missed this. He and his twin play tag or hide and seek whenever they can’t read any more books in their library (either because the books are too advanced or they have already finished it).

Hermione hates tag because she can never catch him.

And Tom makes sure to choose tag every time they want to play.

“I’ll tutor you if you catch me!” he taunts.

Hermione growls. “I don’t need your help!”

They collapse to the floor later, breathing heavily. Tired, but happy.

“Want to sleep her for a bit before dinner?” Tom checks the time and they still have 2 hours left.

Hermione nods. “Okay.”

Tom looks around to search for anything that they can lay on but there are only chairs and tables around. It’s not like they can transfigure a makeshift bed either, it’s too advanced, even for them.

Looks like they have no choice.

Tom lays down first, his back on the floor. “We don’t have a bed though, but it’s better than nothing.”

Hermione tilts her head curiously at him. “Oh I think this is better though.”

Tom frowns. “What do you mean?”

Then Hermione kneels next to him and lays down on _him._ “Yup. This is softer than the floor.”

“I can’t-” wheeze- “breathe!”

Hermione snuggles closer to him. Yes. This is infinitely better than the floor.

* * *

Tom and Hermione are practically vibrating with excitement with the Christmas holidays nearing. Tom received an invitation to Malfoy Manor and Hermione was also welcomed to the Burrow to meet Ron and Harry over the holidays.

Tom rejected the invitation, and Hermione, as thankful as she is for the invitation, would rather spend time with her twin.

They return to Gaunt Manor and go back to sleeping together, bathing together, and holding hands for every second of the day.

In those weeks of Christmas holidays, everything is alright again.

* * *

Sometimes, Tom can’t resist speaking to Hermione in Parseltongue in front of the Gryffindors, even though it makes her angry. She says that it only isolates her from her housemates, thinking that they have a snake among the lions.

That’s the point, actually. It’s why Tom keeps doing it.

“ _See you in Potions,”_ hisses Tom to Hermione in Parseltongue. She still hasn’t finished her breakfast and is eating toast. Tom had the brightest idea to pass by the Gryffindor table to taunt the lions with his and Hermione’s lineage. They’re always so pushy about house rivalries.

Hermione frowns. Nevertheless, she answers him in their language, “ _Yes. See you later.”_ She gives him a brief glare. _“And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Tom.”_

Tom leaves, smirking.

Hermione shakes her head in exasperation. Her brother is too possessive of her sometimes.

“That’s Parseltongue, innit?” asks Ron from across her, munching on his toast.

Hermione nods. “Yes.”

He scrunches his nose. “But isn’t Riddle a muggle name?”

Hermione, who believes herself to be a saint for being patient with Ron (and no- whoever asks- it’s always Ron who starts their fights), explains, “Our father is a muggle while our mother is a witch. She’s a Gaunt so my brother and I are descendants of Salazar Slytherin.”

Harry, who’s sitting beside her, grins teasingly at that. “And Hermione is too much of a Gryffindor to follow her blood, isn’t that right?”

She doesn’t say anything to that. Being sorted to Gryffindor and having been separated from her brother is still a sore spot for her.

“I think I’ve heard about the Gaunts from my mum before,” remarks Ron.

Hermione leans in, interested in what he has to say. No one really visited Gaunt Manor so she thought that her family had always been isolated to the world. She wonders what other people have to say about her family?

“What have you heard about?” she asks.

Ron pauses from his chewing to remember his mother’s words. Then he blushes.

“Well- er- I- I can’t remember!” he stammers.

Both Harry and Hermione stare at him unamused.

“Well?” She raises a brow. “Just say it.”

His cheeks are redder than his hair. The fact that Ron is embarrassed just makes them more curious.

“Mum said that the Gaunts are obsessed with blood purity.” He looks away from them. Then he mumbles, “And that they marry their cousins and siblings to keep their blood pure.”

And Hermione’s cheeks match Ron’s. Because- yes. She _has_ imagined marrying her brother. Until she found out that it was illegal to marry your sibling.

“Tom and I aren’t obsessed with blood,” she says instead. But even she doubts her words. Her brother goes on and on about ‘filthy muggles’ ever since he found out about their father.

 _If he were a wizard he wouldn’t have left us_ , Tom once said.

“We know, Hermione.” Harry squeezes her hand in reassurance.

“Blood purity or not, incest is incest and that’s just disgusting.” Ron shudders. As a boy who has 6 other siblings, the image of liking his brothers or Ginny in a romantic way is gross beyond words. “But yeah, we know that you’re not a prejudiced prat like those in Slytherin. Except for your brother, I suppose. He’s actually nice for a Slytherin.”

Hermione remains silent.

* * *

On their third year, Tom reads about the Chamber of Secrets after sneaking into the restricted section of library. Similarly, Hermione comes across a potion called Polyjuice Potion. It could transform a person into another for an hour.

“Tom, have you heard about the Polyjuice-”

“Hermione, I can’t believe we missed the Chamber-”

The twins talked over each other in their excitement, barely minding what the other is saying. Once they calmed down, they asked the other what it was that they found.

“Er- sorry, Tom. What did you say about a Chamber?” Hermione whispers. It only occurred to her that she and her brother shouldn’t have been talking too loudly. It’s after curfew and if anyone comes across them in the restricted section, Hermione is afraid they’ll get detention.

Tom points to a section on the book he’s holding. “See here? It says that Salazar Slytherin had something called the Chamber of Secrets!” He glances at Hermione who looks equally intrigued as he. “What do you think is in there?”

She bounces on her feet a little at the revelation. “I don’t know- more books?”

Tom laughs. Of course his sister imagines a chamber of just _more books_. “It’s called the Chamber of Secrets. There _has_ to be something more than books there.”

She nods after a second but she can’t really imagine what other secret there might be in the Chamber of Secrets. What if it’s filled with dark artifacts? Or books on the Dark Arts?

Hermione shudders.

But knowledge is knowledge. Whatever is in the Chamber will be valuable, even if they don’t know what it is yet.

“We’ll search for the Chamber in our free time,” Tom says. His eyes fall on the book Hermione’s been holding this whole time. “You said something about a Polyjuice?”

Her eyes light up. “Oh yes! It says here that the Polyjuice Potion allows the drinker to assume the form of someone else, as long as they put a part of that other person’s self into the finished potion.” She smiles at Tom, bright like the sun.

Tom raises a brow, the beginnings of a smile on his lips once he realized what she intends to do with the potion.

“It means,” she grins, leaning toward him to whisper conspiratorially to him, though no one else is around, “that I can be you, and you can be me.”

And Tom shivers with pleasure at the thought. How many years has he imagined Hermione with the same form as his? Or him with the same form as Hermione’s?

Of course there’s a potion for that. There’s always transfiguration but transforming parts of a person one by one sounds tedious. This Polyjuice Potion sounds like it will do the job for them just as easily with only a part of them, possibly their hair.

Tom shares her grin. “That sounds fantastic.”

Hermione worries her bottom lip in thought. “It takes a month to brew though and we’ll have the issue of where to get the ingredients and where we’ll brew the potion.”

Tom frees her lip absently, his mind going to Slughorn.

He pats her cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll convince Slughorn to give me the ingredients. You worry about the location.”

Hermione sighs exasperatedly at him. “ _Professor_ Slughorn.” She would have crossed her arms if they weren’t occupied with the book. “Honestly! You, Harry, and Ron have no respect for our professors.”

Tom frowns at the mention of her friends.

(She once called them her _best friends_ but Tom tries his hardest to forget that conversation. Only _Tom_ can be her best friend.)

“Why are you still with those two idiots?” They meander through the bookshelves to return Hermione’s book. “You’re better than them.” Tom tries not to sound too bitter.

In Slytherin, Tom never has any friends. He has lackeys, followers in the form of Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, and all the other sheep in his house. Theodore Nott is a decent sort so he’s the closest he’ll ever have as a friend _but still._ Tom had always thought that he will be Hermione’s only friend.

Every time he sees her with Potter and Weasley, a stinging sensation grips his heart. She shouldn’t have anyone besides him!

But his sister is too nice. She probably feels sorry for their grades so she occasionally helps them out. She tutors Longbottom too, and everyone knows that even the professors have given up on him.

So he lets his sister play the angel this time. She’ll be bored one day.

“They’re my _friends_. Which you always seem to forget.” She hits him lightly on his arm.

_Friends._

Oh well. She’ll realize sooner or later that she doesn’t really feel anything for the idiot trio.

And if Hermione takes too long to realize that, then Tom will just have to help her out.

* * *

It’s already January but Tom didn’t request the ingredients from Slughorn, preferring that no one knew that they will be brewing Polyjuice under everyone’s noses.

“I’ll steal the ingredients one by one during Potions so Slughorn doesn’t notice,” said Tom. “It will take at least a week.”

Hermione doesn’t mind. It will take a month to brew Polyjuice anyway, waiting for one more week won’t hurt. In the meantime, she will search for a place where she’ll be able to brew in peace. She thought of their hidden room at first but that has poor ventilation. Hermione would choke on the fumes before she even finishes the potion. So while she and Tom wander around Hogwarts, hoping to stumble upon the Chamber of Secrets, they also inspect abandoned classrooms (even bathrooms) for their potion brewing.

They’re on the second floor when they hear muffled crying.

“Who do you think that is?” asks Hermione, curious.

Tom pulls her toward the noise. They’re 14 years old but he and Hermione still hold hands every time they’re together. People have commented on it, considering it odd, but with a charming smile and a laugh, Tom has them shutting up.

 _What can I say? I’m an overprotective brother,_ he would say.

“I don’t know but let’s see who it is,” says Tom. “If we help them they’ll owe us a favor.”

Hermione rolls her eyes. Typical Slytherin. The first thought that came to her was that they should give the crying person their privacy. Maybe that’s why the hat put her in Gryffindor. She actually has decency, unlike a certain Slytherin brother of hers.

The muffled crying becomes louder and louder. They make their way over to the girls’ bathroom.

Hermione peeks inside, spotting a girl with braids and glasses in Ravenclaw robes with her knees on her chest.

“Hello?” Hermione says.

The girl’s head snaps up, surprised to hear another voice other than her own before glaring at Hermione. “Are you here to make more fun of Myrtle? Myrtle who won’t stop whining, who won’t stop moaning, who won’t-” she breaks off with a sob.

Tom steps in the bathroom and Myrtle’s sobs come to an abrupt stop.

“O-Oh! Hello, Tom.” Suddenly, Myrtle is shy. She stands up and pats herself off for dirt. She tucks a stray hair into her ear. “What are you doing here?”

Tom dons a worried mask. “We heard crying. Are you alright?”

Myrtle giggles and Hermione has to blink in shock. She was just bawling her heart out earlier and now she’s- giggling?

“I’ll be fine so you don’t need to worry.” He isn’t worried but Myrtle doesn’t need to know that.

Now that he has found out who was making that god-awful noise, Tom has lost interest and would prefer to return to searching the castle for potential brewing locations. He planned on comforting the crying person had they been rich or somewhat influential but seeing Myrtle changed his mind. No one with a working brain would find Myrtle useful.

He gives her a smile that has her blushing. “I’m glad to hear that.”

He turns to leave, tugging Hermione toward the exit, but Hermione isn’t finished yet.

“Wait!” she says, facing Myrtle. “Why are you here in the first place? This bathroom has broken taps and toilets.”

Myrtle goes back to her previous position: sitting against the wall with her knees up her chest. “No one else goes here. It’s just me when I need to cry.”

Hermione would have pitied her if she wasn’t celebrating inside for finally deciding on a place where she and Tom can brew the Polyjuice Potion.

That’s right! How could she forget about this bathroom. It’s roomy, has good ventilation, and almost no one passes by here because it’s broken except for Myrtle, who is unmentionable because who will listen to her if she tells anyone that the Riddle twins are brewing something in there?

She squeezes Tom’s hand, giving him a side glance which she hopes conveys her thoughts.

When he squeezes back, she knows that Tom understood.

The next few days are spent stealing potions ingredients little by little so no one notices them missing. After that is done, Hermione finally starts the potion.

“Is there anything on the book that tells us a method to shorten the brewing process?” A week after they started, Tom has finally reached the end of his patience.

He taps his fingers against his crossed arms, watching Hermione who looks too content brewing and not impatient enough to Tom’s tastes. “I mean, really? A month?” He scoffs. “Who would want to make a potion for a _month_?”

Hermione glances up from the book to glare at him. “You know, you could always continue searching for the Chamber and not bother me. You’re not even helping me.”

He _could_ do that. Searching. But that would mean leaving Hermione in the bathroom without him. And he never wants to leave Hermione.

What he _could_ do is annoy his sister.

He moves from his position by the wall to sit behind Hermione, who follows his movements with a suspicious eye.

“What are you doing now?” she asks.

“Hugging you,” he says, wrapping himself around her, trapping her arms under his. He places his chin on top of her shoulder, then he rubs his cheek to hers for good measure.

He receives a sigh of annoyance at his demonstration of his love but Tom isn’t fooled. Hermione likes it. _Loves_ it. If she didn’t, she would have maneuvered herself out of his arms. Just like what she does with that Weasley boy.

Tom’s expression darkens.

Ron Weasley is too touchy-feely with his sister. Thankfully, Hermione usually gets out from his hold, especially after that one time Weasley fell from his broom during a Quidditch game and broke his arm.

Sadly, Skele-Gro exists so the broken arm was short lived.

When Hermione asked him if he had anything to do with it, Tom told her the truth.

 _Malfoy hates Weasley. I only jokingly said that it would be a shame if someone jinxed his broom that might cause him to fall._ He smiled. All teeth. _I didn’t do it, Hermione._

Yes. He didn’t do it. But Hermione already knew that.

And she knew him.

Angry at Tom for hurting her friend, she refused to talk to him for two days. Ron was her friend and he didn’t have the right to hurt him like that just because he was a possessive prat. After that incident, Hermione made sure not to touch anyone unless necessary. Especially Neville. For some reason, Tom had it out for Neville since day one.

“Is it done yet?” asks Tom after 10 minutes.

She wiggles under his hold, hoping to at least get a working hand out. “ _No._ ” There! A hand free. “It will be done in _three weeks_ now shut up and let me work.”

He continues his hugging until he felt hot enough from the heat emanating from the cauldron and Hermione’s own body heat.

As fun as it is to disturb her, he releases her. And, one wrong move and they’ll have to do over the potion, the stealing of ingredients, and reset the _damn_ one month.

He explores the lavatory instead.

Rickety doors, cracked mirrors and tiles, and broken taps. The only thing missing is a ghost haunting it.

Hermione’s in charge of the potion so how does she clean her hands? (Tom will admit that he has barely helped with the potion. He has no patience for waiting.)

Are all the taps broken? He will have to reconsider his opinion on Hermione’s hygiene after brewing if they are.

One by one he tests the taps.

He starts with the leftmost sink. The handle is rusty and when he attempts to turn it, it refuses to budge. Tom shrugs and moves on to the next one. The handle of the second tap turned but no water flowed.

One by one he tests the taps.

He comes across a different one. It differs in that this one has a snake carved into the tap.

Tom runs his fingers on the carving, feeling its ridges. A tingle starts on his throat. Something in him pushes him to speak Parseltongue. But what will he say? How is he to speak if it doesn’t tell him the pass-

“Tom?” He jolts out of his thoughts at Hermione’s call.

She’s looking at him curiously. “Are you alright? You’ve been staring at that sink for a while now.”

He doesn’t answer, still examining the snake. Perhaps…

But Tom shakes himself out of that thought. Because really? The Chamber of Secrets in a girls’ bathroom? That’s just sad.

Still.

Out of all the decorations, the furniture, the equipment that he and Hermione has examined in Hogwarts, this is the only one with a snake carving that isn’t in the Slytherin common room. He will have to inspect this tap at a later date, when he’s not worrying about the Polyjuice Potion (to be fair, he isn’t worrying about that either).

It’s just disgusting if this _is_ related to the Chamber. Why, of all places, a bathroom? A _girls’_ bathroom! There has to be cooler entrances like the empty hallway on the seventh floor.

Tom’s hand hovers over the tap’s handle.

He turns back to Hermione. “It’s nothing. Just wondering where you wash your hands with all these broken taps here.”

He will leave it for now. He will try it out with Hermione after they’ve finished the potion.

Hermione looks at him, wondering what it was that had him staring into space. Oh well. Tom will tell her later, probably. He never keeps anything from her.

“The last one on the right works,” she says.

Tom tries it out and, yes, it works.

* * *

It’s February.

It’s time.

“Who goes first?” asks Hermione, a vial of Polyjuice in her right hand. Her left hand is held by her brother, it would have let out creaking noises if he gripped any tighter.

Tom eyes the vial with greed.

That’s a good question. Should he have the pleasure of seeing Hermione’s emotions on his face? Or should he have the pleasure of _feeling_ Hermione as herself.

Both are tempting offers and he can’t choose them at the same time.

In the end,

“You drink first.”

he picks Hermione.

His hand drifts to his head, plucking a short strand of hair. He drops it into the potion, the color turning from muddy brown to green.

Their eyes meet briefly, before Hermione drinks the potion in one big gulp. Tom records all of the process in his mind as if it’s happening in slow motion: She swallows nervously before tipping the vial to her mouth. A bit of Polyjuice smudges the edge of her mouth and Tom aches to brush it off with his thumb. But he has to see her transformation without any interruption on his part.

Once she’s finished, her skin bubbles, she grows 2 inches taller. Her jaw sharpens and her cheeks become smaller.

All in a few seconds, there she is, wearing Tom with a shy expression. And oh how he dreamt of this. Day and night, wishing to the god he didn’t believe in that they become identical when he was younger.

There she is.

Whereas Tom’s posture is more relaxed, his body language open to indicate to everyone that he is friendly and perfect, Hermione holds herself straighter, her chest (or rather, _his_ chest) puffed out.

And then there are her eyes.

She may be Tom right now in everything: from his hair, nose, lips, arms, chest, cock, down to his feet. But the eyes. Her expressive eyes.

That will always be Hermione.

Those eyes of hers always tell a story. They shine when she’s sad, they’re bright and determined whenever she comes across a good book, they’re hard and flinty when she’s angry. While Tom’s eyes are guarded, never letting anyone inside but his sister.

Right now her eyes are wide in excitement.

He wonders if he has the same look in his eyes.

She’s not a mirror but she is just _his._ Especially right now. He owns all of her.

“What do you think, Tom?” She does a silly little twirl and it only occurs to him that his other body has a skirt on.

He can’t put into words his feelings. Maybe he can try, but he won’t. Perhaps what he will do is better.

He crashes his lips to hers.

A faint squeak comes out from her and their teeth clash, their noses bumping.

He grabs the nape of her neck, his fingertips brushing the short strands of her- _his-_ hair. He bites her bottom lip, and he’s only realized that every time she does that, that every time he pulls her lip with his fingers, it is Tom who wants to bite it. So he nibbles on it, and he hopes that when she returns to her form, her lips will still be swollen from his teeth.

She gasps when his tongue clumsily enters her mouth. He catches the remainings of pumpkin juice and shepherd’s pie and jolts at the reminder that Hermione is _Tom_ right now.

It’s his lips he’s kissing, his lunch he’s tasting. But underneath that is all Hermione.

And that is the most delicious drug of all.

This is their first romantic kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is freaky lmao why did I write this. 
> 
> No Merope this time but she’ll be back next chapter. Tom will have to move along his plan after all. I’m still not sure if I’ll be able to finish the story in only 3 parts. This will probably take 4.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione has taken to blushing every time he appears. It’s confusing, a little frustrating, but also a bit gratifying.

But mostly it’s confusing. In fact, Tom wonders why they didn’t do that sooner. It makes sense, after all, that they would share everything together as twins: their birthday, their books, their bed, _everything_. Why not their bodies and their lips, not just as siblings but as romantic partners as well?

Then again, what kid would think of someone in a romantic way? They’re fourteen. They’re in their puberty stage now so it’s understandable to think of boys or girls in a different way than just friends.

But he and Hermione are never just friends or just siblings.

They are _more._ Something that has no label.

Hermione understands that.

She _should_ understand that.

So why is she blushing around him, acting all shy?

Or perhaps he should see this in another way. Hermione never acted shy to anyone. She’s all bossy, know-it-all nerd who gives a tongue-lashing to anyone that deserves it. So perhaps Tom should be glad that only he could unlock Hermione’s shy side.

Yes. That’s a better way to look at it.

Tom is angry at her though.

She chickened out at their supposed Polyjuice event.

After she transformed as him and got kissed the living daylights out by him, she ran away, not giving him the opportunity to appreciate her transformation. She didn’t even give him the chance to _be_ her.

He was looking forward to both and then she went and snatched it away.

He’s not talking to her. But he doesn’t even get the pleasure of rejecting her supposed apologies because she’s avoiding him too but for different reasons.

That’s unacceptable. Hermione should never avoid him for any reason at all. He lets it be when she’s angry for the sake of cooling her off but when she’s- what- shy, of all things!

She should never hide from him.

Her everything: her best traits, her worst, he should know all of those.

And now she’s _avoiding_ him.

Should he punish her?

But that might distance her from him even more.

No. He should _tempt_ her. He would tease her, give her lingering kisses that are different from their usual kisses. Like the one he gave on that room. She would crave him then. She would give in.

And then he’ll punish her.

He would evade her advances, maybe give in a little to keep her wanting, but in the end, he’ll leave her disappointed but needy. Then he’ll accept her after some time, and she and Tom will be happy again.

Yes. That would work.

He will have to research first though. He knows nothing about romantic advances. He hopes there’s a book about it in the library. Worst case scenario would be having to eavesdrop on upperclassmen’s crass conversations about their sexual endeavors in the common room.

Tom would rather avoid that. He and his sister have more class than that after all.

Tom grins.

_Look forward to the next few days, Hermione. I won’t be leaving you alone._

* * *

Tom flips through the book in disgust. Is that what romantic partners do to each other? That just looks gross!

Then again, tangling tongues with his sister appeals to him even though it sounds disgusting on paper. Maybe gross things just feel good.

Tom wants to experience everything with Hermione. And when he says everything, he means _everything_. Down to the dirty bits.

Even world domination, if possible.

They’ll have to wait later for this though. Once it’s less repulsive to him they’ll try it.

* * *

Tom stands outside the Transfiguration classroom, waiting for Hermione.

Today is the day. They haven’t spoken in a week, which is the longest time they’ve not talked to each other.

He is ready. He has read and memorized what he must do. Unfortunately, he couldn’t practice because the thought of touching anyone that isn’t Hermione makes him sick. But he is still confident. He is Tom Riddle and no one can say that Tom Riddle is bad at anything he puts his mind to.

The door to the classroom opens and first person out is Weasley, followed by Potter and Hermione.

“Blimey, they should lay off on the homework, don’t you think?” Weasley complained. “I barely have enough time to breathe!”

Hermione huffs, instantly going to lecture mode. “If you had done all your homework early-” She stops when she notices Tom.

He gives a little wave to her and her companions and leaves his position against the wall to approach the trio.

“May I borrow my sister for a bit?” he asks, his expression apologetic, as if he’s sorry that he’s taking time away from her friends that they could have spent with his sister.

No. They’ve had the week. Their time is up. Hermione’s free time is his again for a long time, at least until she becomes angry again.

“Of course,” says Potter. He sends Hermione a chastising look and nudges her none too subtly. “Hermione would love to speak with you again.”

Tom wonders if Potter even knew the word subtlety.

Hermione glares at Potter shortly before turning to Tom. Unsurprisingly, her cheeks turn into a faint red. Her hands twitch, controlling the urge to reach for Tom’s hand.

Potter and Weasley say their goodbyes and Tom and Hermione are left alone in the hallway.

He offers his hand to her, palm up.

She accepts it and Tom has to bite back a sigh of pleasure. They have gone too long without touching each other. And judging by Hermione’s slight shiver, Tom can tell that his sister thinks the same.

They head towards their hidden room, jogging at intervals in their hurry.

They enter the room and when Tom closes the door shut, the sound rings throughout the empty room.

“Why are you avoiding me? It’s been a week.” He didn’t mean for the words to come out as whiny and needy. He’s supposed to be calm, listen to Hermione’s explanation, pretend to forgive her, and then charm her.

Of course he overestimated his control over his emotions when it came to her.

At least Hermione looks contrite enough.

“Why…” she starts. “Why did you kiss me, Tom?”

“We always kiss, Hermione. What’s so different about our last one?” He acts like he’s confused but _oh_ how he knows just how different it was.

She glares at him. “Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”

Sometimes it’s annoying how Hermione can see through him. Then again, he’d be upset if she _couldn’t_ read him.

“Answer my question first and then I’ll answer yours,” he says. The most frustrating thing about the shy Hermione is that Tom doesn’t understand _why._ He has to know. Why did a kiss that deviated from their usual had her running?

Hermione hesitates to answer. Her body shifts away from him, facing the door. And when Tom thinks she’s going to run again, she says, “Siblings shouldn’t kiss like that.” Her eyes meet his. “We shouldn’t have done that, Tom.”

“That doesn’t tell me why you avoided me.”

She’s silent. She’s choosing her words but he doesn’t want the edited version. Why would she watch herself around him? They’re twins!

This is unacceptable.

“Answer the question or I’ll kiss you again.”

Tom almost falters when Hermione panics. Does that mean she hated the kiss?

“But-”

Tom closes the distance between them. Their foreheads touch and there’s barely a centimeter between their lips.

Hermione’s breath hitches, her pupils dilate, and Tom sees it all.

She didn’t hate it after all.

In fact. Tom now has an idea of what the truth is. All Hermione has to do is confirm it.

Looks like his plan will go swimmingly.

“Why do you want-” her lips tremble when he presses his mouth to hers.

“Last chance, Hermione,” he murmurs against her lips.

Her face is burning and Tom knows that he won.

“It’s because I loved it,” she whispers her secret, guilty over her feelings.

He kisses her anyway. And like the first time, when he moves his lips over hers, she squeaks in surprise.

Their kiss is clumsy. Both partners are inexperienced but Tom will make sure that they will get plenty of practice.

“I kissed you because I want you,” he says over her lips. Should he bite her? Yes he should. And he does just that.

They separate for air and Tom notes in amusement and pleasure that Hermione’s lips are swollen.

 _I think we’ve had enough air_ , Tom thinks before diving for another kiss.

But Hermione stops him with a hand over his mouth.

Tom blinks in surprise. Didn’t she like it? Judging from her flustered state it seems like she did. So what is the problem?

“Tom,” she hisses, “Siblings don’t kiss like that!”

Ah. Hermione’s moral compass is the problem.

He removes her hand to reply with, “So?”

“So?! It’s wrong!”

“We’ve slept in the same bed and bathed together for fourteen years whenever we can. We’ve kissed on the lips several times,” he reasons. “I don’t see what’s so different with this one.”

She has trouble refuting his words. Still, she persists. “That’s different! We did all of those _platonically._ ” She doesn’t meet his eyes. She’s lying.

She wants to take the high ground, act like an angel with her morals about incest, insisting that everything they’ve done is platonic. Deep inside, her desires are the same as his. Because Hermione is Tom’s twin.

She wouldn’t be Tom’s twin if she wasn’t a little twisted herself.

Who brewed the Polyjuice Potion? Hermione.

Who transformed into their twin first? Hermione.

Who loved kissing their twin but is too guilty to acknowledge it properly? His lovely Hermione.

He wants to expose her hypocrisy to her. He wants to say, _If it’s so wrong then why did you kiss me back?_ But doing that would only make her defensive and would draw her away from him.

He has to soften her up to the idea.

He intertwines his fingers with hers. “Are we really labelling what we have?” he asks. “I always thought of our interactions as just _us._ Nothing else. I thought you felt the same but it seems that I was wrong.”

There it is again. She’s worrying her teeth over her lip. Tom watches it with rapt interest.

“You’re trying to guilt me.”

He ignores her accusation. “No one will know if that’s what you’re worried about.” That’s the opposite of what Tom wants. “It has always been us, Hermione. Did you really think that we’d develop romantic feelings for somebody else?”

Hermione tries to imagine Tom with someone that isn’t her, kissing them like he kissed her last week.

She wants to puke.

“This is _us._ No one should be able to take this away from us.” He squeezes her hands. “The only one who’s able to do that is you and me. And we know that I won’t ever do it.”

He lets the implication that only Hermione will be responsible for injuring their relationship float in the air.

“I… Give me time to think about it,” she says.

_Please give me time to come to terms that I do desire my own brother that way._

She’s not too different from Tom. She just hides it better.

She will need time to come up with a list of rules for Tom. No kissing in public and all that.

She will need time to calm herself down.

“Okay,” he says.

She lets go of his hands then takes a step back to breathe. “I’ll be going then.”

Tom pecks her on the cheek. “Go. Think about it. I’ll wait for you.”

Hermione leaves but she didn't see Tom’s face when she did.

He was grinning.

* * *

The next few days are torture for Hermione.

As per their discussion, Tom gave her time. Albeit very _loosely_.

The first time it happened, it happened so suddenly that Hermione wondered if she imagined it.

They were in their nook in the library when Tom said he was turning in early. Hermione was a little disappointed. After ignoring him for a week she had missed his presence but she did tell him to give her time. He probably interpreted it as giving her space.

She was about to tell him to stay when he pressed his mouth to hers for a quick kiss before running away.

Hermione sat there with her mouth open, surprised at the sudden attack.

But she didn’t think much of it that first time. Tom probably couldn’t help himself and snuck in a kiss for himself.

She should have known he was planning something.

Each time they're in the library, studying, Tom would make an excuse to leave early, gives her a kiss goodbye before disappearing so quickly Hermione thought he disillusioned himself.

This continues for two weeks.

If they were only short kisses she wouldn’t have minded it.

But then there were the touches _._

“I’ll see you in Potions, Hermione.” Tom passes by the Gryffindor table at breakfast. Before he leaves, he carves his fingers into her hair. To anyone else it would look loving, or teasing, because Hermione’s hair is wild like that. But to her it’s possessive. The heat of his hand pressed to the back of her skull.

He leaves behind a flustered Hermione.

“Will you check my essay for me?” she asks him at their table in the library, about to pass her parchment to him. But he stands up from his chair.

Confused, Hermione lets him do his thing.

Which apparently means leaning over her, pressing his cheek to hers. And Hermione is reminded of the time when they last kissed for real, not the pecks that Tom gives her before leaving the library.

She figures out his game.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Tom,” she mutters to him, clutching the edge of the table as he looks over her essay. “I said I needed time.”

He hums. “What exactly am I doing?”

“You’re- You’re trying to tempt me.” She would have glared at him but that meant moving her face toward him, which meant that their lips might brush against each other. “Well it’s not going to work.”

He chuckles. “We’ll see.” He then corrects some information on her work before giving her his essay so she can check on his too. Hermione takes it, giving Tom suspicious looks while going over his work.

He only seems amused.

She doesn’t ask for help again after that.

“So, you and Tom finally talking?” Harry asks her as they return to the castle, having come from Herbology.

“I… guess…” she hesitantly answers. She doesn’t really want to talk about her brother, especially because their relationship is taboo. Hermione feels that if she even talks about Tom for even a moment, the whole world will know her feelings for him.

“I’ve always wanted a sibling, you know?” He watches Ron who’s talking with Fred and George. He puts a finger against his lips. “Don’t tell this to anyone but I’ve always been jealous of you and Ron. Having siblings seems so much fun.”

Hermione doesn’t think that what Harry would have wanted is a relationship that is similar to what she has with Tom. He most likely meant something normal.

She also watches Ron get teased by his brothers. “Yeah. Siblings are fun. You should ask your parents for a sister, Harry. Or a brother.”

Fred and George.

“Yeah. Maybe I should.”

Identical twins.

Hermione has always been slightly jealous of them. Since the start, Tom wanted to be completely identical and she shared the same sentiment. When they were younger, they looked more similar. But as they grew older, Tom started to grow taller, his hair became wavier, and his jaw became sharper. Whereas Hermione’s height also grew but slower than her twin’s. Her hair is thicker. Her cheeks are rounder.

Like Tom, Hermione hates their bodily differences.

She wants to be him and he wants to be her. Tom may be a prat most of the time but she does love him. And what says I love you the most than being a copy of each other?

Perhaps it’s time to tell Tom that she has used up her time wisely. Today, she will drag Tom to their room and kiss him soundly on the lips just like they wanted. She will dig up her stash of Polyjuice from her school trunk and restart what should have happened weeks ago.

After homework of course.

In the library, Hermione pores over books in what she hopes an efficient manner. She’s excited to return Tom’s romantic advances but that doesn’t mean she’ll shirk her duties as a student. She hopes to be a prefect come fifth year after all, and if she’s able to balance her timetable for studies, friends, and her brother, then her badge will be well-deserved.

But most importantly, if she and Tom become prefects, they’ll be able to use the prefect’s bathroom.

They’ll be able to bathe together again. Potentially _every day._

So, yes. Hermione is looking forward to fifth year.

She blushes when she realizes where her thoughts ran. How she ever thought that she could delude herself into thinking her relationship with her brother is platonic she might never know.

“Gotta run.” Tom stands up suddenly from beside her. “Malfoy said something about chocolate and you know how I love chocolate.” He doesn’t. But if that’s his excuse to leave early just to kiss her then that’s not Hermione’s problem.

“Okay.” She angles her head to him and puckers her lips. She’ll just catch him later after she’s done with her homework.

“Bye.” He waves with a mischievous grin.

And then he leaves.

Without giving her a kiss.

Hermione stares after him, confused.

Maybe he just forgot?

Hermione feels slightly dejected. But it’s not like it’s routine or anything. She’ll have her chance later anyway.

But when Hermione comes down to the dungeons to ask for Tom in the Slytherin common room, Gregory Goyle tells her that Tom is busy.

Hermione doesn’t get her chance that day.

Hermione doesn’t get her chance the _days after_ even.

What in Merlin’s name is Tom’s problem? Suddenly, after weeks of kissing her goodbye and touching her constantly he just stops?

He waits for her after class but he won’t take her hand. He passes by the Gryffindor table during breakfast but he won’t at least touch her hair.

They study in their hidden nook in the library but he won’t kiss her goodbye.

And no matter how much Hermione wants to stomp her feet in frustration, she can’t because that would give Tom satisfaction. She thought that he was luring her to give in but it turns out that it was to punish her!

Now how should she retaliate?

Hmmm…

Perhaps she could approach Malfoy. Maybe Nott. Or even Parkinson. Nott seems to be the most tolerable of the three but she will feel bad if he ever gets hurt because of her.

Tom is a possessive brother.

And Hermione will make use of that to show him that she is not to be messed with.

* * *

His plan didn’t go as well as imagined.

In fact, it's a disaster.

Hermione was supposed to become frustrated with the lack of him and chase him instead.

She’s not supposed to turn to Draco Malfoy, of all people, for comfort!

And Malfoy is a little too happy to be receiving a girl’s attention, even though it’s _his_ sister. He had already warned Draco to steer clear of Hermione but it seems that his warnings went from one ear to the other.

If Draco Malfoy smiles at her _one more time._

He grits his teeth as Hermione lays a hand on Malfoy’s arm to check on his homework.

_She isn’t supposed to willingly touch anybody else._

He imagines breaking Malfoy’s arm, the one she touched. He imagines plucking Malfoy’s eyes out of its sockets for even looking at her.

Then his imagination changes. And instead of Malfoy, it’s Hermione who has her arm broken, for even daring to make fun of him by touching somebody else. Instead of Malfoy who has empty eye sockets, it’s Hermione. But he wouldn’t pluck her eyes like a caveman, no. He would take care of acquiring her eyes. He loves her eyes after all. He would place them in a specialized container, put a charm on them so they would never rot. He would protect the jar, never letting anyone see them.

The idea sounds more and more appealing by the second. It would mean that Tom would only have Hermione’s eyes to himself. Only seeing him.

But they would be dead.

The eyes would only stare blankly at him, never showing love, happiness, sadness, anything.

And as much as he loves the idea, he hates it too.

Hermione must have noticed his dangerous expression because she pulls away from Malfoy and goes to sit beside him.

“...Tom?” She attempts to take his hand but thinks better of it.

He pays her no mind. His eyes searing through Malfoy, who also noticed Tom’s mood.

“Draco,” he calls.

Malfoy swallows. “Yes, Tom?”

“Leave.”

The pathetic creature jumps up from his seat, hastily gathers his things, and runs.

Malfoy leaves the two siblings. One is nervous, and one is furious.

Hermione remains quiet and Tom is in no hurry to fill the strained silence.

A few minutes pass by when Hermione finally gets her Gryffindor courage. She shouldn’t have angered Tom. She knows what happens to people who have (Ron, her mother, and now Malfoy).

“I’m-” Hermione starts. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t answer immediately. He stares at her hands. She was about to reach for him earlier. What changed her mind?

He reaches for it and Hermione flinches. He examines the back of her hand. If he turns it over, he knows exactly what he will see. A line crosses her palm diagonally starting from the bottom middle and ends between her pointer finger and thumb. A curved line stretches at the top. There’s a cut between her ring and middle finger from when she accidentally cut herself from a knife during Potions.

He has memorized all of her, knows exactly how many freckles she has on her face, knows each placement of the lines of her palms. The palms that were on Malfoy’s arm earlier.

“What are you sorry for?” He wants to hear it. A part of him wants to hear her beg but he’d rather just lock her away.

Fitting, that she’s a Gryffindor and that she sleeps in a tower. Perhaps he should lock her up in a tower like Rapunzel’s evil mother?

She puts her hands over his. “Look at me, Tom.”

He does. And he sees her apologetic eyes, the eyes that he wanted to keep for himself earlier. They’re such a lovely brown.

His fingers twitch.

“I’m really sorry. It’s just- you frustrate me sometimes and I just wanted to tease you a bit. The day when you stopped kissing me, I was supposed to tell you that I agree.” When Hermione babbles, she goes on and on. “I _do_ want you, Tom. And it hurts that people say that what we have is wrong when I know it’s not and I- I love you, Tom”

He closes his eyes. He does so love hearing that from her.

“And-” her voice drops into a whisper. “I love you as more than a brother.”

He doesn’t say anything. Should he? If he stays silent she might repeat saying ‘I love you’.

“Can I kiss you?” At her request, Tom’s eyes fly open.

She’s biting her lip again.

He leans into her. “You’re forgiven.”

He will bite it for her.

* * *

"You don’t want to use the remaining Polyjuice?”

“No. We only have a month before the term ends. Let’s use it back home. That way we won’t have to hide in a small room.”

Everything is back to normal. They’re holding hands again, Tom isn’t avoiding her and Hermione isn’t avoiding him anymore.

They kiss in hidden corners of Hogwarts. It’s usually nothing more than a peck, but to them it’s everything. Sometimes it becomes more and Hermione’s too shy to open her mouth so Tom leaves it be.

He gets to kiss her whenever now so what type of kiss it might be doesn’t much matter to him. What matters is that Hermione finally accepted their feelings. He just gets a little excited sometimes. He’ll have to soften Hermione up for the different types of kisses he saw in that book.

What’s more, Malfoy’s arm is broken. Tom encouraged him to approach the hippogriff that they were studying in Care of Magical Creatures, knowing that he’s too proud to bow. Malfoy the Stupid didn’t bow as expected and got attacked. He blamed the creature, not his stupidity.

He only broke an arm but Tom wished for the hippogriff to peck his eyes too but there’s always next time.

Tom hasn’t told Hermione about the Chamber of Secrets yet. By the time they made up, exams were coming up and they had no time to investigate.

They will have to investigate it come next school year. It’s not like the Chamber will go anywhere.

Other than that, life is good.

* * *

Tom tried to discourage Hermione from shouting “Mum!” but he couldn’t. Hermione likes their mother so she’s always excited to see her again, she even writes to her once a week, but Tom doesn’t have much affection for their mother.

He appreciates her taking care of them but other than that, Merope doesn’t really have any good qualities.

And Tom is embarrassed to be seen with his mother in public. She’s ugly. She looks like a corpse, honestly.

He was afraid that people would make fun of him because of Merope so before anyone could do that, he turned her into a sob story instead. He told people that Merope was abandoned to fend for herself and her children by a muggle who used her. Despite whatever illness she has, she still managed to raise two smart kids.

Some people slightly admired her then thanks to Tom. No one could beat the Riddle twins when it comes to academics so Merope _must_ have done something good with them.

Eh. Whatever. It’s slightly true anyway.

“Hello, Hermione!” She welcomes Hermione into her arms and nods to Tom. “Tom. It’s so nice to see my twins again!”

He nods back. “Hello, mum.” He notes that she winced when Hermione hugged her too tightly.

Curious.

“Let’s go back home, shall we?” She places a hand behind their shoulders and guides them to the exit of platform 9 ¾. “We have your uncle Morfin back at the manor too.”

Tom didn’t even know he was still alive. Why did he return?

“Oh! When did he return?” asks Hermione.

“Just last month.” She pauses for a second before saying, “Be careful around your uncle. He’s very… moody.”

And Tom finally gets the reason she winced earlier. Merope is wearing long sleeved robes but at the right angle, he can see the bruises under her sleeves. No doubt it’s from their ‘moody’ uncle.

Tom and Hermione are going back to an abusive uncle.

“Can’t he stay somewhere else?” Tom asks but he has a feeling of what the answer will be.

“Your uncle insisted on staying there,” she says. “...he said he wanted to meet you too.”

That’s bad news. With the exception of his mother, the Gaunt family is known for their views on blood purity. He and Hermione are half-blood.

If that man lays a hand on Hermione there would be hell to pay.

“Mum,” he says. “Are we going to be okay?” Hermione quirks an eyebrow at his question, wondering where that came from.

Merope’s lips tremble but she stands tall. “Don’t worry. I won’t let him do anything to you two.” Her words are brave and Tom hopes what she says is true.

Tom holds his sister’s hand, getting her attention. She smiles gently at him before seeing his serious expression. He deliberately eyes Merope’s forearms and Hermione follows his gaze. She gasps quietly, then squeezes his hand to tell him she understood.

“Why did he return now?” Tom asks.

Merope looks around to see if anyone will hear their conversation. Seeing that there’s no one near enough to hear them, she says, “Your uncle Morfin was imprisoned in Azkaban for years. For- for killing muggles.” She only found out when he came back. He shouted at her, blaming the ‘filthy muggles’ for his time in Azkaban.

He wasn’t nice at all when he learned of her half-blood children through Hermione’s letters.

They finally arrive at the manor. Tom is about to open the front door when Merope’s knees give out, collapsing to the ground.

She won’t stop shaking. “I’m- I’m sorry-” She lets out a shuddering breath. “Just bad memories.”

Hermione kneels down to help her up but she’s too weak to hold her mother up. “It’s going to be okay, mum. We’ll protect you.”

Tom hopes Hermione didn’t mean that but he knows better. He doesn’t want Hermione hurt but she will be if she helps their mother.

He pushes the door open.

The front hall is empty and no one is there to greet them.

 _Thank Merlin._ He and Hermione can escape to their room immediately then.

“Let’s go, Hermione.” He shakes his head to her to leave their mother but the glare that he received means that she will stay.

He sighs. If that’s how it is, then fine. He can’t leave his sister behind so he goes over to them and helps Hermione with their mother.

They enter the manor and Tom kicks the door closed. It slams, ringing loudly, and he winces at the sound it caused.

They drop Merope off at a couch. Hermione is still fussing over their mother when Tom tugs her away, hurrying over to their bedroom. It’s been a long year and Tom can’t wait to sleep with Hermione in the same bed again.

He takes out their trunks from his pocket and enlarges them. The twins are silent while they organize their clothes, books, and other stuff.

Tom considers taking a bath but he’d rather lay down and wrap his arms around Hermione. He takes off his school robes so he can change into his pajamas.

He plops down on the bed and it bounces a bit. He goes under the covers. When Hermione is finished dressing, he pats the space beside him. “Come on. Let’s sleep for a bit before we eat dinner.”

She slips into the covers and clutches Tom’s hands with her own. “I missed you.”

He smiles. “I missed you too.”

He bumps his nose with hers and she giggles, her breath fanning his mouth. Now is the perfect time to get a kiss. Hermione’s seems to think so too from the glances she’s giving to his lips.

He kisses her rosy cheek first. And because it has the same color as an apple, he nips it too. She giggles again and Tom wonders if there’s a tool to record sound so he can hear Hermione’s voice whenever he can.

Then he presses his mouth to hers and forgets everything except Hermione’s presence.

* * *

“ _You’re that filthy muggle’s spawn then?”_ Morfin spats to them in Parseltongue over dinner, not able to control himself as he kept giving them disgusted looks.

He sits at the head of the table and Tom doesn’t bother answering him in Parseltongue, hoping the madman reads it as the disrespect it should be. “We’re mother’s children.”

Morfin scoffs. “ _As if that’s any better._ ”

It’s better because Merope isn’t a muggle. She didn’t leave her children to die. She raised them all by herself even though she’s weak-willed.

Tom tells him so, leaving the muggle and weak-willed part out. Merope gives him a teary but thankful glance.

Morfin only rolls his eyes in response but he doesn’t say anything anymore.

The next few days are spent avoiding their uncle as they can possibly avoid someone when they’re living in the same house. He hasn’t hurt the twins yet which Tom is thankful for. He feels sorry for his mother though, who takes the brunt of Morfin’s unpredictable moods.

He has to hold back Hermione from helping their mother though, telling her that their uncle will target them, _him,_ if they interfere.

In the end, her loyalty to Tom won.

Morfin Gaunt is a despicable human being who abuses his own sibling, who tortures muggles for fun, and who goes off on a tangent about how their blood should be pure and how dare Merope dilute it. He barely speaks English and mostly speaks in Parseltongue.

If Tom called him idiot in fancy English will he understand it? Perhaps he should find a Shakespeare book, there’s bound to be a few creative insults there.

The first time Morfin almost hurts him, he and Hermione were returning from the library.

 _“You look so much like him,”_ Morfin hisses to him. “ _That filthy muggle that bitch was so obsessed with.”_

Tom wonders why he’s even near the library. Does he man even know how to read? Does his vocabulary contain more than ‘filthy muggle’? Tom gets it, muggles are disgusting, but does he have to go on and on about it?

He rolls his eyes, ignoring the raging lunatic, barely glancing at him. He has to get Hermione, who tightened her grip on her wand in fear, away from him.

_CRASH._

Pieces of ceramic fly by him. Hermione cast a weak shield charm over them when she saw their uncle grab a vase, trembling with anger from being ignored.

It was a weak _Protego_ , the spell too difficult for them yet to cast successfully, but it protected them at least.

Tom turns around, his wand out, and cries, “ _Stupefy!”_

The man falls down unconscious.

Hermione lets go of him, running to Morfin to check on him, and Tom opens his mouth to scold her. What is she thinking, checking on the person who hurled a vase at them?

But then Hermione lifts her foot.

And kicked their uncle! Hard.

“He almost hurt you,” she says, her voice shaking. She kicks Morfin again for satisfaction.

Tom never loved his sister more.

“That’s enough, Hermione. Thank you.” They have other pressing problems now.

Once their uncle wakes up, he will know that Tom stunned him and might come after them again.

He approaches Morfin, studying his unconscious form. He looks dead like this. Perhaps Tom could practice the Unforgivables on him? The Killing Curse, for example.

But he doesn’t deserve such a clean death. Maybe a few _Crucios_ before his death? Hmm…

But Tom doesn’t know how to cast it yet. He has to reread the book on the Unforgivables for that. He forgot the wand movements because it’s been so long since he read that particular book.

For now…

“Hermione, you’ve read about memory charms, right?” he asks.

“Yes, but- I’ve only read about it.” Still, she points her wand at Morfin. “What if I mess up his mind?”

Tom shrugs, not really caring about that. “I doubt it will change him much. He’s already crazy.”

Hermione doesn’t care much either. He tried to hurt Tom. That’s unforgivable.

_"Obliviate."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Yeah I just wanted it out there that both twins want to be identical but for different reasons. Tom is for ownership of Hermione while Hermione thinks it's an expression of love. Lmao what the hell am I writing.
> 
> Anyway, I said this might take 4 parts but I don't think I can fit everything that I want to happen here in just 4 chapters so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯. The Polyjuice Potion will make a comeback next chapter so brace yourselves.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People keep saying that this is messed up and I love it. When I first came up with a fic for Tomione I wanted something disturbing so I thought of obsessive twins and creepy Tom. And then I wanted to go further, I also wanted it disturbing and freaky, and thought: Polyjuice! And voila! It birthed this mess.

"How do I look?"

"I think you wear me better," says Hermione, examining Tom from head to toe.

They tried the Polyjuice again though this time, Tom transformed into Hermione. He complained the whole time, saying that he hadn't gotten a good look on her when Hermione first turned into him.

 _I don't care. It's your turn_ , she said, jumping a little in excitement.

Once she had her fill of looking at him, it's Tom's turn. He faces the mirror and sees _her._

There they stand.

Identical.

Perfect copies of each other.

He has all of her now.

He grins and it doesn't fit on her face. It looks too evil, he thinks.

He stretches his fingers. His hand is smaller. This is the hand that he holds possessively, lovingly. While his is always clean, hers is usually smudged with ink stains. He can see some of it if he looked closer.

He takes a step forward so he can see himself better on the mirror.

 _One. Two. Three._ He counts until he gets to eleven.

Eleven freckles. He has Hermione's freckles. He has Hermione's lips. He has Hermione's brown eyes.

_He is Hermione._

He feels strangely giddy. Like he wants to jump all over the place. Perhaps this is what he would have felt had Hermione stayed that one time in Hogwarts.

 _Oh_ if only they were identical all the time. The world would know that they belong to each other then. No one would be able to tell them apart, no one would recognize their differences. Only he and Hermione would.

He turns to her, smiling. "I'm you."

She smiles too, and are their expressions mirroring each other? Are their smiles exactly the same, down to each millimeter of the lifting of their lips?

"You're me," she echoes.

He wants to touch her. Or should he touch himself? He _is_ her now after all.

But where to start?

Maybe he should strip so he could see all of her?

He starts to unbutton his shirt when she grabs his wrist to stop him.

"Tom what are you doing?!" she asks in a panic, her face reddening. "Why are you suddenly taking off your clothes?"

"To see all of you," he says, before continuing to unbutton his clothes, ignoring her hand on him.

First there is her neck, pale in contrast with his dark shirt. Then her collarbone, her developing chest.

Her chest. That's one thing his own body doesn't have because he's a guy. One other thing that's too obvious of their difference to the world.

"It's a bit embarrassing to have you stare at me, you know."

"You should never be embarrassed around me. Or else I'll get angry." He's down to one button now. He doesn't understand why his sister is still complaining. He just wants to look and feel her as _her._

Hermione sighs but she lets him go.

He shrugs off his shirt and there she is.

His- her- nipples harden from the cool temperature of the room. He flicks one absentmindedly, then jolts at the curious sensation.

"Are they this sensitive?"

She purses her lips at him. "No. Yours is probably just less sensitive."

See? He has to touch himself as her because how would he know more about their bodies if he didn't? He didn't know that fact about them.

He spends the rest of the hour studying her with Hermione getting bored of watching him.

He finds out some things he didn't know about her body before.

He stripped down naked so he could study all of her. He finds out that the back of her knees are ticklish. It feels nice when he rubs a spot behind her ears. Her hair is soft against his back. The slit between her legs, when touched, feels strange but it doesn't feel bad either, it kind of makes his toes curl.

He goes back to her breasts from time to time. Every time he kneads them, a pleasant shiver goes through his spine. He will have to do this to Hermione at least once. If it feels good to him then it might be the same for her.

All in all it's a mildly successful transformation.

"Do you want to kiss while I'm you?" he says. Will she taste different if he kissed her as herself?

Hermione shrugs. "Sure. Why not?"

He approaches her to where she's laying down on the bed but then thinks better of it.

"Stand up," he orders.

She rolls her eyes at her demanding brother but does as he says, all the while grumbling that it's just a kiss.

But Tom wants to do this while standing, while they have the same height.

He intertwines his fingers with hers, and stands forehead to forehead with her.

"This is a bit weird," Hermione comments, noting that Tom is still naked. _Her body_ is naked. Couldn't have Tom put on some clothes first before kissing?

Tom notes that their eye level is the same.

Of course their eye level is the same. He is _her_ right now.

He brushes his lips to hers, tentative. This will be his first kiss as Hermione. Should he do something different?

He remembers the curious sensation earlier, from when he flicked his nipples and touched his chest.

He grips her wrists and places them on his breasts. He urges her to move her hands and when she does, Tom finds her hands and her fingers preferable to his own.

"Now _this_ is getting weirder," Hermione says against his lips.

He shuts her up with a kiss. When she opens her mouth to him, Tom feels something different. Different but good. Maybe it's the hands on his chest?

He guides her hands on his, using his newfound knowledge of her body, whispering her directions. He tells her where to rub, to scratch lightly, to flick.

He lifts his hands to her too. So Hermione can feel the same as him.

A curious sound emanates from her.

All in all it's a successful transformation.

* * *

Tom doesn't know what to do with their uncle. He wants to kill him but he wants to kill their mother too so he and Hermione can have the manor to themselves.

If both die he or his sister might look suspicious.

_How annoying._

If only his uncle would go back to Azkaban. Perhaps he could push Morfin to kill muggles again? Then Tom would report him to the Aurors.

It's a plan that's rough around the edges but it's a plan nonetheless. He would have to think of another one or at least smooth over what he has.

There's only three weeks left before he and Hermione go back to Hogwarts. Still, there's plenty of time for coming up with a plan. He can think about it while he's in school.

It's just too bad that they can't go around the manor as each other because Morfin will surely have to say something about it. Insults, most likely.

As if he has any authority on what sibling relationships should be like. _He_ abuses _Merope._

Tom is thankful to have Hermione. He probably would have killed her if she was anything like Morfin.

"I've finished reading this. Do you want to borrow it?" She asks him from at their desk.

"Maybe later," Tom replies, still perusing a book about the Unforgivables while on their bed. Apparently, the Ministry has no method of detecting the use of Unforgivables. They know when a wizard uses magic around muggles however, that's probably how their uncle got caught.

They hear a cry from the hall outside their bedroom.

" _Out father died and you went and whored yourself to a muggle!"_ someone spat in Parseltongue.

Morfin.

Hermione jumps up from her seat and wastes no time leaving their room. In her hurry, the door almost slams against the wall when she jerks it open.

Tom has no choice but to follow her. Damn his sister and her Gryffindor morals.

Once Tom catches up to his sister, she tugs his arm, saying, "You wanted to practice the Unforgivables, right?"

There, right in front of them, are their uncle and their mother. Merope is on the floor with her arms over her head for some semblance of protection, and Morfin has his wand pointed at her.

In the back of his mind, he wonders why his mother isn't using magic to protect herself.

When Tom nods, his sister begs to him, whispering hurriedly to his ear, "Please use the Imperius Curse on him to stop. Please, Tom."

"Okay- just- give me a second."

He planned on using the Cruciatus on Morfin with Hermione Obliviating him every time but Tom sees the logic in this. He'll start with the easiest Unforgivable first and then he'll work up to the Killing Curse.

Their uncle whips his head to them when he heard them. He stomps toward them, face drawn back like a cobra about to strike.

" _Half-bloods!"_ he screeches. " _The Gaunt blood is now sullied because of you!"_

Hermione pulls Tom behind her.

He moves closer to her back so he can hide his wand from Morfin. He slides his wand from between Hermione's side and her arm, the tip of his wand poking out.

 _Imperio,_ he thinks.

" _Imperio,"_ he whispers. But nothing happens. Their uncle still looks crazed, not dazed as an imperiused person should be.

"Tom and I are the top in our year so don't tell us that we sully the Gaunt name," she retorts. Tom wants to tell them to shut up because he's concentrating on the spell.

The book says that intent is what drives the power of the Unforgivables. He has to mean it, he has to desire to control his uncle, however repulsive controlling that vile man might be.

Hermione still hasn't stopped talking back against Morfin. "If anything," she says, " _You_ dirty our family name from your time in Azkaban!"

 _Imperio_ is back on the tip of his tongue but Morfin raises his arm, then backhands Hermione!

Hermione stumbles back against him, and unbidden, a different word burst out of his mouth.

" _Crucio!"_

His blood runs hot in his veins. Morfin falls to the floor. Tom sees nothing but the writhing body before him, screaming in pain, for mercy. He feels his magic tingling through his arm, he feels his anger fueling the Cruciatus Curse.

_How dare he hurt Hermione?_

In all his fourteen years he made sure that no one ever dared harm her head. He memorized all of her tells that meant she was in pain, and whoever was responsible would be punished. No one has been punished yet.

This is the first.

_And it felt good._

Power at his fingertips. Is this dark magic? He could get used to this.

He pours all of his hate and anger into the curse. Anger for throwing a vase at him, anger for hurting his mother, and _anger for raising a hand against his sister._

Morfin no doubt bit his tongue because a bit of blood spills from his mouth. His body shakes violently, his arm is bent in an unnatural angle. Tom hopes he chokes on his spit and die. Should he increase his power? Would his uncle lose his mind from his curse?

He feels a hand on his arm.

"Tom," he hears his sister's voice say. "You have to stop." Her voice is soft but he hears it over the war drums thumping in his ears.

Why should he stop? Morfin hurt her. If he dies from pain then that means he was just too weak to endure it.

But if he dies then Tom won't be able to torture him anymore.

So Tom lifts the spell, and he lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"If you killed him you would be sent to Azkaban," Hermione says, still holding on to him. "But thank you, Tom."

She kisses him, showing her appreciation.

And Tom could get used to this feeling. After a perfectly cast Cruciatus he gets a kiss from his sister. How lovely.

She draws away from him but he follows her lips, still drunk on her, on the dark magic singing in his veins. "Where are you going?"

"I'm _going_ to Obliviate our uncle." She puts her hands on her hips. "I did tell you to use the Imperius Curse but… I understand. Had that been you I would have done the same."

Her right cheek is a painful red and the hand that's still holding his wand twitches, itching to curse their uncle again.

"Let me see your cheek."

Hermione angles her injured cheek toward him. Tom prods at it, anger flaring when Hermione winces.

" _Episkey_ ," he casts. The red becomes fainter until it disappears.

He prods it again and asks, "Is it okay now?"

She nods and smiles at him. "Yes. Thank you."

She leaves him to Obliviate their uncle and Tom strides over to Merope to check on her status. She still hasn't gotten up from the floor but she doesn't have her arms around her head anymore. Instead, she's glaring at Morfin, clenching her fists.

"Are you injured anywhere?" he asks. Of course she's injured. Unfortunately, the only healing spell that Tom knows is Episkey. If she has anything other than scratches or light hits then Tom wouldn't be able to help.

She doesn't answer his question. Instead, she says, voice shaking, "He was going to your room… I tried to stop him."

Rare appreciation for his mother flows inside him. No matter how weak she is, she still tried to protect them.

"Why didn't you defend yourself?"

She steadies herself on one hand. She sways slightly and Tom puts an arm around her to help her but pulls back when she winces. "My magic seems to fail around him."

Trauma, Merope guesses. Morfin and Marvolo Gaunt often insulted her years ago that she was a squib. But when they disappeared, when she wasn't afraid anymore, she was able to use magic then to use the Imperius Curse on Tom Riddle Sr. He was her only happiness back then. But now she has her children. And she will do her best to protect them.

But Tom doesn't understand. Why would a witch fail to use magic, even a weak one? He doesn't ask though, his mother has had enough for the day. If her shaky movements are any indication, she was held by a Cruciatus.

"Can you heal yourself?" He stands up and extends a hand to help her up.

"Yes. Don't worry about me." She accepts his hand. She lifts herself up but she stumbles at first.

He really needs to do something about their uncle.

* * *

Tom sits with his sister in the Hogwarts express, playing with her fingers.

In the end, he wasn't able to get rid of his uncle. He practiced Unforgivables on him but nothing else. He hopes his mother is okay. He gave her books on defensive and offensive spells after his first Cruciatus, hoping that she trains herself so she can defend against his uncle.

He has contradictory feelings about that though. He wishes for his mother to be safe while Morfin is in the manor. On the other hand, if Merope _does_ get better with defense, Tom will have a hard time killing her.

"You should have come visit us, Hermione," says Weasley across from them. "You, me, and Harry would have loads of fun in the Burrow!"

The Burrow sounds disgusting. And there's too many people to share his sister's time with. But Tom will consider it if it will mean that he and his sister can avoid their uncle.

Still, from the stories he heard from Hermione, the Burrow is bound to be packed with people. It has the whole Weasley family, they also invite the Potters, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. That's a lot of people to share Hermione with. They have to interact with them after all. On the other hand, the Gaunt Manor has Morfin and Merope. But Morfin is troublesome. He will hurt them again no doubt.

It's a tough decision, but in the end, Hermione's safety wins.

They will visit the Burrow. Next year.

Tom is already dreading it.

Hermione gives Weasley a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. I'll go next time."

He pouts, a ridiculous look on his face. "You always say that."

Hermione tightens her hand on him, then loosens. "I mean it this time. Can Tom come?"

She has always wanted to visit the Burrow since first year but preferred to spend time with Tom in the manor. Now that she has the excuse with the name Morfin, she has a feeling that she and Tom can finally spend time with the Weasleys. They have always been a bunch of lively fellows and their happiness is contagious, in Hermione's opinion.

Ron shrugs. "Yeah, why not? Mum loves cooking for more people anyway."

Hermione now has the summer to look forward to.

* * *

"Are you _really_ sure about this, Tom?" Hermione crosses her arms, skeptical.

He glares at her momentarily, before going back to test the tap again, the one with the serpent design.

"You think I want the entrance to the Chamber _here_? This bathroom's disgusting. We only know that there is a Chamber but not where it is. We've read hundreds of books and explored the castle for years but found nothing." He twists the handle but nothing happens. He turns it back. Then twists it again. _Bloody Chamber._ "This carving is the only clue we have."

Hermione sighs but accepts his argument. "Fine. We try this first. We still have years to search for the Chamber before we graduate after all."

"Yes. And I still have years to graduate as top of our year." He smirks at her. He had the best grades last school year. Hermione is still bitter about that fact.

"Top of our year?" She scoffs. "I would think that the top student would realize that no matter how many times he tries to twist that handle, nothing is ever going to happen."

He pulls his hand away from the tap as if burned. "I don't see _you_ helping."

"Don't you think Slytherin would have used a _spell?_ You know, to prevent just from anyone to enter it."

"If it's a spell then anyone _can_ enter it."

"Not if it's cast by someone with Slytherin's blood."

And so comes the argument that being Slytherin's descendant isn't required to open the Chamber. But then it's called the Chamber of _Secrets_. What idiot calls it that if it's just going to be accessible to anyone anyway? Then the argument devolved into whether Slytherin has friends or not.

"I bet he's friendless like you!"

"I don't want to hear that from someone who spends time with _Longbottom_ and _Weasley._ "

Eventually, they decide to do Hermione's method of searching for unlocking charms to see if it will work. They spend days inside the library (which isn't any different from any other day), poring over books on spells for unlocking doors, chests, and others. There's nothing for taps though. Because who's stupid enough to make a sink, of all things, the entrance to a secret chamber?

Slytherin, that's who!

 _Possibly_ Slytherin, anyway. It's only Tom's gut feeling that the sink is the entrance after all.

" _Alohamora."_

Silence.

The sink doesn't move an inch.

"Really, Hermione?" He quirks a brow.

She mumbles, cheeks pink, "It was worth a try."

They wrote down a list of spells to attempt to open the Chamber. One by one they scratch a spell off the list until they get to the bottom. Others they cast successfully, others not as it was too advanced.

Hermione slumps to the floor of the bathroom. "Maybe we should visit this again once we're older and more powerful."

No way. They have to find out what's inside the Chamber. Then Tom remembers the itch in his throat when he first saw the serpent engraving.

"Maybe it's not a spell," he says. "Maybe we just need to speak to it."

Hermione eyes him skeptically. "That's too easy for a secret chamber."

He rolls his eyes. "And you're making it too hard." He wanted to hiss something that day. "Something in Parseltongue perhaps?"

"You mean like a password but in Parseltongue? Yes that makes sense." She stretches her arms over her head and yawns. "But maybe tomorrow? All that spell casting made me tired."

Now that she mentioned it, he just noticed that his limbs are heavy and his eyes are drooping. The unlocking charms took a toll on them. But at least they have knowledge on several spells on that thanks to a lot of books.

Yes. They'll visit again tomorrow.

Hermione has already readied herself and is waiting for him by the door.

"Don't get caught by the prefects," says Tom.

Hermione scoffs inwardly. "I won't." She wouldn't be Ron and Harry's friend if she can't avoid a few patrolling prefects.

The next day's classes pass by uneventfully. Except, Tom has been watching Hermione more closely than ever. Ever since her stunt with Draco Malfoy, he has been uneasy to leave her alone with other people.

He knows and he knows and he knows that Hermione will never leave him, but every time she walks away from him he wants to snatch her, get her away from everything. He wants her alone for himself even though she already _is_ his. He wants her isolated. He wants her. _He wants her._

He wants the world to know that she is his but at the same time, he doesn't even want the world to know that she _exists_. She's lovely. She's bloody smart. She's pretty. Her hair is wild. Her smile makes you feel wonders. _And everyone can see that._ And since that's the case, then what if they start to feel the same as he does? Would he hurt them? Threaten them to stop liking her?

But that won't stop them from liking her would it?

He could kill them. And killing them means they won't feel anything for Hermione ever again.

He could kill Longbottom.

"Like this, Neville. You cut them uniformly," Hermione teaches, demonstrating the correct way to cut the ginger roots.

Longbottom watches her hands, the knife, and ingredients carefully. He nods at the right times and smiles when she looks over at him.

Slytherin and Gryffindor have taken Potions together since first year. In every class, he and Hermione are either beside each other or partnered up. And every time they're brewing something, Hermione makes sure she's beside Longbottom, or at least near enough to him so she can help him.

Every time this happens, Tom gets jealous and frustrated. He can't help it. What's more frustrating is that Hermione knows of his jealousy and willfully ignores it. She will get angry if he tells her to stop helping Longbottom so he stews in silence instead.

But now… since Draco Malfoy happened and his jealousy is sky high now, he _has_ to do something.

With the way Longbottom is looking at his sister, there's bound to be romantic feelings involved. Tom just isn't sure if Longbottom knows it himself.

He has to do something before that happens.

But as much as he loves the thought of killing Longbottom, Tom knows that he's not a criminal mastermind. The reason his mother and his uncle aren't dead yet is because he has a feeling he will do it clumsily, in which case he will be imprisoned.

In conclusion, Tom will have to get rid of Longbottom with no homicide involved.

But how?

He isn't a priority though so it's fine for now.

Well. Not really, Tom thinks, remembering Malfoy again. But he has other matters to take care of. Namely the Chamber of Secrets.

Potions class finishes and Tom and Hermione receive yet another Outstanding from Slughorn. Longbottom got an Acceptable, which is undeserved in Tom's opinion. A Poor suits his potion better.

Next period is Herbology with Hufflepuff. Outside the classroom, in front of their classmates, Tom kisses Hermione on the cheek, dangerously close to her lips.

_Let them see._

_Let them suspect_.

But they won't suspect. Everyone knows that the Riddle twins are open with their affection. They hold hands, kiss each other on the cheek, study together, and partner up in class. It's how they get along. Just like how Fred and George are just as inseparable but in a different way. They usually have their arms around their shoulders and they never leave the other out from a prank.

The alarmed look Hermione sends him is expected.

"I'll see you later." He waves goodbye and heads off to Herbology with Malfoy and his cronies following him.

Classes go by and Tom is bored. He raises his hand to answer questions but in his mind he just wants to go and check out the Chamber.

Finally, his last class for the day finishes. He goes straight to the second floor bathroom where he told Hermione to meet him.

She is already there when he arrives.

He accepts the hand outstretched to him and says, "What are your ideas?"

She scrunches her nose in thought. Look at her. So adorable. Her charm is a danger to everyone. Tom's mind wander to Longbottom again and how he's always requiring Hermione's help.

He'd really like for Longbottom to disappear.

Or Hermione. She could disappear from the world and only Tom would know she is. He could have her locked up and no Longbottoms will ever see her again.

Tom comes back when he hears Hermione's voice. "Let's try his name first?"

He gives her a dry look. "Salazar Slytherin is still _Salazar Slytherin_ in Parseltongue."

The sink is silent. He sends her a smug look that says _See?_

She grumbles. "I said _try_ didn't I? It's not like our first words will open it." She continues. "It's not like _open_ will do the trick either. That's just too simple." She hisses the word _open._

A click.

Then a groan.

The sink- well- sinks to the floor. It opens up a hole that seems to swallow up the darkness that's down there, whatever down there even is.

Tom and Hermione stares at it open mouthed.

He murmurs, "Looks like it's just that simple."

It's a hole.

It's a bloody hole.

It's not even stairs. What idiot makes the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets a pipe? Are they even sure it's the Chamber? I mean, sure, it opened to Parseltongue but what if it's a torture chamber down that pipe? What if what greets them are bones of long forgotten people?

Are they supposed to slide all the way down? How will they get out?

To his horror, Hermione kneels down next to it.

" _What are you doing?"_

She traces her fingers over the edge of the pipe. Then she bends down and plunges her whole arm into it and touches it again, feeling the texture of it with her fingertips.

She rights herself up and studies her fingertips. "It's dry," she says.

He huffs. " _And?"_

Hermione smiles brightly. "It means we can slide down."

How did she get to that conclusion?!

"Are you out of your mind? Do you even know how we'll get out?" He can't believe Hermione is even considering this without thinking through it first. Can't they at least borrow a broomstick so they can fly back out?

Hermione rolls her eyes. _She rolls her eyes_ as if he's the unreasonable one. "Where's your sense of bravery, Tom?"

Holy crap. His sister has been swallowed up by Gryffindor stupidity. He _knew_ he should have told the hat to re-sort her. Stupid bravery is contagious and everyone knows the Gryffindors have that. Now Hermione has it too.

"And where is your sense of caution, Hermione?" he tries to keep his voice level. He'd like nothing more than to shout and shake her but if he surprises her, she might accidentally fall to the depths below. His sister is hopeless.

She slides her legs down to the edge, they dangle and Tom's heart stops.

She sighs at him, exasperated. She just wants to go down and see what secrets lie inside the Chamber. "Do you really think Slytherin would have trapped himself there with no way of getting out?"

Hm. He didn't think of that. Because he thought of their safety first!

"Hermione, first let's talk about-" making sure not to hurt themselves on their way in.

But she's already plunged herself in. Down the rabbit hole she goes.

Damn it, Hermione! She's too excited for her own good.

" _See you there, Tom!_ " her voice echoes through the pipe.

Tom sighs. He has a troublesome sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the question is: is Tom right about Neville? Or is he just seeing things because of his jealousy? Also, notice how I'm not good with describing action? It would help a great deal if someone links me to a site or recommends me a book about it. I'd like to improve but I don't know how. I purposely make it a bit vague during intimate scenes though since they're underage.


	5. Chapter 5

_There better be a broomstick down below,_ thought Tom. Never in his life did he hope for a broomstick that might cost him his life. Or, rather, not his life but the idea that he might get trapped in a place forever just to follow his sister.

But what Hermione said _does_ make sense. Slytherin wouldn't have trapped himself there with no way of getting out.

Still, she shouldn't have been too hasty. What if she hurt herself on her way in? Did she even get the chance to cast a cushioning charm?

Tom sighs.

_Bloody Gryffindors._

Here he sits on the edge of the pipe, contemplating on whether to go after his sister or grab a broomstick just in case.

"Hermione?" he calls out.

 _Please answer._ If she doesn't, he'll borrow from the broomshed and rescue her.

" _I'm fine, Tom! Just don't forget to cast a cushioning charm like I did!"_ he hears her answer.

He sighs again, but this time, fondly.

"What's it like down there?" he shouts.

" _Come and see for yourself!_ " Her voice is farther. Nothing in her tone of voice seem to indicate that whatever down below is dangerous. She would have told him not to follow her if it were.

He braces himself on the edge, then slides down to the darkness. The pipe is dry, no bodily fluids whatsoever, and Tom is grateful for small mercies.

He doesn't forget the cushioning charm so when he ends up sprawling to the ground, he doesn't feel any pain.

He hears Hermione's bellowing laughter in the background.

"Don't laugh," he grits out. He pushes himself up and dusts his clothes off. "I'm not the one who forgot the cushioning charm."

Hermione just laughs more in response. After she calms herself, she gestures for him to follow her. "Come on. I found a door. It opened when I said _open_ again."

While Hermione leads the way, he takes the chance to observe the Chamber of Secrets, or whatever it is. It has a faint green hue to it, pillars of snakes are on the sides. They pass by the door that Hermione mentioned and they are greeted by a large statue of a bearded man. Salazar Slytherin, he presumes.

It really must be the Chamber of Secrets.

The question is: what secrets does it contain?

There is a corridor to the left of the statue.

"Let's go, but don't stray far from me," he says approaching it curiously.

He enters it, and there are four doors to his left. At the end of the corridor across from him is a fifth room.

Metal bars are there instead of a normal door and his heart skips a beat.

An image of Longbottom banging on the metal bars, screaming out for help, appears in his mind. He would _Crucio_ him from time to time, until he finally kills him with an _Avada_. He would see the light go out from his eyes.

Maybe he'd even collect his eyes. Have it as a trophy as proof that he won't look at his sister with adoring looks anymore.

 _Oh_ he's trembling just from thinking about it.

But it is only that. His imagination.

It won't bear fruit because no matter how much he hates it, Longbottom is Hermione's friend.

As he was lost in his thoughts, Hermione has already gone ahead of him to the first room. It required no password to enter it.

He trails after her, ever the guard dog of his sister.

It's a simple bedroom with a bed decorated in silver and green. There are cabinets and a small bookshelf the size of a medicine cabinet.

"Don't touch anything without a diagnostic charm first," he reminds her.

Bored with the bedroom, he heads to the fifth room instead. Or rather, the prison.

There he stands in front of it. He eyes it with wonder. He smooths his palm over the metal bars, feeling its cold touch for himself. He grips it and pulls, yanking on it, trying to bend it with his strength.

A 14 year old boy, even a bigger one, won't be able to escape from this. But this is Slytherin's prison. Perhaps not even a grown person can escape from this.

The only objects inside are handcuffs chained to the wall.

" _Open_ ," he hisses.

The bars stand still. They do not move from his command.

Of course, it shouldn't be that easy. A little practice here and there and someone at least competent could imitate Parseltongue.

But perhaps someone with Slytherin's blood…

He takes his wand out of his pocket and nicks a small cut on his finger.

A thin line of blood seeps out and he touches the bar again, this time with the added blood.

The bars move upward, disappearing to their place above and finally, Tom can enter.

He pockets his wand and strides to the center to observe what little there is in the room. It's small, barely the size of their bathroom in the dormitories. There isn't even a chamber pot, which is revolting. Are prisoners supposed to just pee or poop anywhere? And when they die, who is supposed to clean that? Slytherin himself?

Once Tom knows more about Transfiguration, he'll make a chamber pot there in the left corner.

He walks up to the handcuffs. He kneels down to further examine it and they fall open when he touches them with his blood.

Do they just unshackle with blood? If so, then that doesn't seem secure, does it?

"Of course you visit this room first," he hears Hermione say from behind him.

A grin curls at his lips.

He has an idea.

"Would you come here please?" He rarely says please. He waves at her to hurry to his position.

Once she's right beside him, he clamps the handcuffs around her wrists. There's a clicking sound, and then it fastens on her and locks.

"What-" she gasps. When she realizes what it is, she slaps Tom on the arm. "Do you even know how to undo it?"

"Of course I do," he answers.

Her wrists are on eye level with him and he stares at them with greedy eyes.

"I think I like you like this," he says, his voice a little breathy. "All chained up for me."

"You're creepy." She lets him have a look though. She always lets him do what he wants, like when he Polyjuiced as her and touched himself, and her. It's not like she doesn't like it. She warms up to his weirdness too.

He pulls himself up to a standing position, and not once did his eyes stray from her wrists. He licks his lips and traces the handcuffs with a finger that isn't smudged with blood, feeling the smooth edge of it touching her skin. Is there any way to make them tighter? Is there any way to mark her skin with them?

He'll research it later.

The handcuffs are ice cold after lying here inside the Chamber for years, in contrast with Hermione's warmth, with her blood pumping beneath her skin.

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Thump._

Her pulse races beneath his fingers, beneath the icy cuffs.

There she is, his sister, chained up for him.

There she is, his sister, locked in a secret chamber without anyone knowing.

The shackles would only open with his blood. Would hers open it too?

His heart pounds against his chest and he finally looks into her eyes. Her beautiful brown eyes. Her brows wrinkle a bit, puzzled by his silence, his hungry gaze.

She will hate him forever should he decide to lock her up. His fantasies will only be that: fantasies. And this is the closest he will get to it.

"Tug on it," he says.

The chains linked to the handcuffs are connected to the wall just above them. Yet the cuffs were on the ground earlier, which means that the chains are too long. There has to be a way to shorten them. Or else it would be too easy for the prisoner. It would be too easy for Hermione.

She tugs on it but the chains just flop to the ground, and it isn't how Tom wants it. He wants the length of the chains shorter so that when she yanks on them, her hand jerks back. That way she can't escape.

He won't focus on that since it only disappoints him. He'll focus on how the cuffs fit her instead.

"Happy?" she asks sarcastically. She puts a hand on her hip. "Will you put it away now?"

"No." He grabs the chains close to the cuffs and jerks her to him. He takes a shuddering breath when he hears the clanging of metal against metal. Should he wrap the chains around her?

She stumbles into him, grabbing his robes to right herself. "Oi- _mmph!_ "

He presses his mouth hard against hers, gripping the chain tight to him, Hermione's wrists straining.

She lets out a pained whimper from the cuffs grinding against her wrists, and he wants to hear more sounds from her.

He digs his teeth onto her bottom lip, and he bites a little too hard because his tongue catches a bit of blood. _Oh she's delicious._

He tugs again, drawing Hermine even closer to him, until no one can tell where he ends and where she begins.

He has only opened his mouth to taste her even further when they hear a different hiss from their own.

" _Who'sss there?_ "

Immediately, Tom unlatches the cuffs with his blood and detaches himself from Hermione. He pulls her behind him and slips his wand from his pocket.

Hermione stubbornly pushes against him so she can stand beside him. She won't let him protect her with his body.

" _We are Slytherin's heirs_ ," he answers. If this unknown entity is speaking in Parseltongue, then it might be an ally. Either human or snake. Snake, most likely, as the only known Parselmouths in Britain are the Gaunts and Riddles. Still, they must be careful.

It might even be the rumored pet of Slytherin.

There's a sound of stone sliding against stone.

" _It'ss been a while since I had guestsss,_ " it says.

A head of a snake too large for it to fit into the corridor bars the exit.

It looks at them through yellow eyes that almost seem delighted.

Hermione gasps. " _You're a Basilisk. The King of Serpents._ " She steps forward to take a better look at it but Tom pulls on her robes, drawing her back.

"What are you doing?!" he hisses.

She attempts to free her hand but his grip is tight. "I'm trying to take a better look."

Trying to get eaten, most likely.

If a snake could laugh, it just did. " _Don't worry. I wouldn't hurt my master's heirsss. My last vissitor was Corvinus Gaunt, a relative I assume?"_

" _We had a Corvinus Gaunt in the family tree_ ," Tom says warily, still not trusting it. it hasn't given him any reason to yet.

" _He told me that he left journalsss for the ones who will find the Chamber next."_ Should there really be a journal here, then they might find out more about this creature. " _If you want, I can tell you more about Sssalazar Sslytherin."_

" _Really?"_ Hermione says, excited at the thought that the Basilisk might tell them tales of Slytherin, a figure they have only read about in books. _If_ it really is speaking the truth. _"That would be wonderful."_

" _I'll leave you to your exxploration._ " The Basilisk slithers out of sight, going to who knows where. _"If you need to leave, tell me, and I will let you climb on my back."_

Then that means it's their ride out of the Chamber.

It's their _only_ ride out because there's no broomstick at the entrance, unless there's something in the other rooms.

He waits until he's sure the Basilisk won't bother them again while Hermione taps her foot impatiently, eager to read the journal about the Chamber.

They go to the third room, as the second is a bathroom.

It's a small library. Bookshelves line up along the walls, and there's a couch, a chair, and a table at the center of the room.

Eyeing the couch, he says, "I told you Slytherin had friends."

Hermione tries to keep her face neutral but her mouth twitches, betraying the beginnings of a smile. "That's only for when he wants to lay down."

They cast diagnostic spells on each of the books. Some are cursed, some are harmless.

Almost half of them are cursed with deadly spells.

Hermione wipes her sweaty palms on her robes. "Good thing we checked."

Yes. Good thing.

That's when he notices her wrists.

Red scuff marks color them.

A shiver of possessive desire goes through him.

He did that to her.

He marked her. He marked her using the cuffs from earlier.

He licks his lips, debating whether to approach Hermione. If he does, he will either apologize or attack her.

He won't heal her though. He wants that mark on her to stay.

He decides to do both.

Tom abandons his station from a separate bookshelf from hers and goes behind her. While she's going through the books one by one, he presses himself against her.

She makes an annoyed sound that he's amused to hear. Then he wraps an arm around her waist while his other hand slides from her shoulder, to the bend of her elbow, until it descends to her wrist.

He traps it with his fingers, tightening it, delighting in Hermione's gasp of pain.

"I'm sorry for this," he whispers against her, his lips grazing her cheek.

He won't kiss her. If he does, he'll lose control, she'll lose her shirt, and they won't be able to find out more about the Chamber.

"You marked me," she says, her voice cracking a little.

And then Tom's heart drops. He didn't think about Hermione's feelings at all. He only thought of himself and his fantasies of locking her up.

He wrenches himself away from her, untangling his limbs from hers. He grasps her shoulder and pulls her to face him.

An apology is on the tip of his tongue when he sees Hermione's expression.

She's flushed. Her neck, cheek, and ears are red. She's worrying her teeth over her bottom lip and she's looking at anywhere but him. Her breathing comes out in short bursts.

"You marked me," she breathes out. "It hurts but- I like that I can still feel it."

_She likes it._

Her gaze burns the bruise on her wrists. "I can still feel you."

She traces the red circling her wrist with a hesitant finger, gasping at the touch.

_She loves it._

Tom tangles his fingers through her hair and kisses her.

Looks like they won't be able to search thoroughly this time.

It takes a while for Tom and Hermione to separate themselves from each other. Once they're more conscious of their surroundings, they find themselves on the couch with Tom on top of his sister.

They shouldn't have done that. Half of the books here are cursed and they could have stumbled on them.

Once they got their bearings back, they check each of the harmless ones. They're mostly academic, while others are journals. Halfway through searching, Tom comes upon Corvinus Gaunt's journal.

He invites his sister to read it with him so they can know more about the Chamber of Secrets and the creature residing in it.

It says here that the Basilisk is Slytherin's, that it (he, the journal says) is here to protect Hogwarts from mudbloods that dirty the halls of the school. Hermione cries in outrage at that part. Tom doesn't really care. Mudbloods _are_ disgusting but at least they have magic, unlike the muggles that they come from.

Corvinus Gaunt is also responsible for hiding the Chamber behind a sink. Once, the Chamber was accessed through a trapdoor and tunnels, but when its entrance was compromised by a proposal of a new girls' bathroom, Corvinus made sure that the passage is secured.

It wasn't Slytherin's decision to hide the Chamber inside a girls' bathroom then. Tom had been blaming the wrong man.

He checks the time. They only have 30 minutes left before dinner.

They have to go.

They exit the room and the corridor to call up the Basilisk who's been resting on a corner.

Its closed lids blink open. It uncurls from its position to slide up to them.

It's even bigger and more intimidating up close. The width of its jaw is only a little less than Hermione's height. Just one bite and they will be eaten.

He hates how the Basilisk makes him feel small.

" _I can sssmell your fear from here, girl_ ," it says.

Tom points his wand to its face. No one and nothing threatens his sister.

Hermione lifts her chin up. " _You're smelling my courage._ "

As far as comebacks go, it's one of her worst, but at least she isn't showing her fear outwardly.

" _We called you to leave,_ " he says, still not lowering his wand.

Its eyes narrow in amusement. The incoherent hissing sounds that it makes indicate that it's doing the snake version of laughing. " _You're not here to chat?_ "

No. They're not.

Hermione is different though. She forgets her fear then, remembering her desire to hear centuries worth of stories from the Basilisk. " _We'll come back. I really want to hear more about Slytherin, if you'll let me._ "

" _Why not?"_ it replies." _It's been years since I had anyone to talk with._ "

The Basilisk and Hermione the Friendly chat as they walk, or slither, to the exit. Tom, meanwhile, hasn't let go of his wand and is ready at the first sign that the creature will attack them.

They ride on the Basilisk's back and return to the world above.

* * *

Their 15th birthday passes and Tom and Hermione are closer than ever. He has become fascinated with her breast, touching them at every opportunity, which is, unfortunately, not often.

She gets shy every time he lifts her shirt up and play with them, her voice high, sometimes stuttering. She's adorable.

He plays with himself too when is Polyjuiced as her. For now, he's having more fun when he is her than when she is him because he enjoys discovering her body more for pleasure spots.

The book he once read when he was 13 said that a woman's vagina can feel good if touched. He tried it on himself and, yes, the book was right. He won't do it to Hermione yet though, he hasn't practiced enough.

For the first time in his life, he is happy for having different bodies.

And then there are her wrists. After their first venture to the Chamber of Secrets, he asked her if she wanted him to heal it, though he hoped that she would keep it.

She said no.

He watches her, as always, and sees her brush her fingers against her bruised wrists through her sleeves at odd times. He sees her shiver when she does.

During their private moments, he makes sure to grip her wrists tightly, or caress them when he wants to be gentle. Her moans are different and he's happy to hear more of them.

And because of these new intimacies, Tom has become more possessive than ever.

The first time he kisses Hermione on the lips in public is during breakfast.

It had to be in front of everyone in Gryffindor, who his sister is with the most. Especially Longbottom. It had to be where everyone is relaxed, where they aren't focused on their studies or where they should go next, so they'll see their kiss and won't immediately forget about it.

Tom is handsome, polite, and is the top student along with his sister, so it's only natural that eyes follow him wherever he goes. He uses that fact to show that Hermione is his. He would drape his arms around her, kiss the top of her head, hold her hand in between classes, and he makes sure to do it in front of everybody.

It still isn't enough that Hermione has the name Riddle, or that they have similar features, or that they're inseparable. _Everyone_ has to know that she belongs to him in a deeper way. He has to imprint himself on her so that whenever someone even mentions her name, he gets mentioned too.

There will never be Hermione without Tom and Tom will never be without Hermione, people need to understand that.

The day he kisses her, Tom scrapes his chair on the ground, the sound echoing through the Great Hall. He is the first to leave his table.

Curious people glance at him, mostly girls who fawn over his looks. Some go back to eating, some take this opportunity to study his figure.

Once he nears his sister seat, he calls, "Hermione."

She shifts a little in her seat to face him, munching on buttered toast. When her head tilts to the left, eyes curious, he leans down. He takes a whiff of her flowery scent.

His lips meet hers.

It's a delight to finally kiss her in public.

He allows a second to pass before pulling his lips away, a sheepish look on his face. He says, "I'm sorry! I was aiming for your cheek."

Said cheeks are pink. She says, "No, it's okay. I'll see you later?"

Weasley wrinkles his nose, and Potter's eyebrows rise. Longbottom looks down on his food.

"Yes. I'll see you later."

He leaves, licking his lips, tasting salt from the butter and her sweet lips. Victory bells ring in his heart.

He repeats it from time to time. It happens at least once every two weeks. If Hermione tip toes to peck him on the cheek, he would tilt his mouth to her, and their lips will 'accidentally' meet. He makes sure to do it in front of an audience.

The first time Hermione kisses him on the lips in public is during a Quidditch match, Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw.

It's very Gryffindor-like, her kiss. They are at the Gryffindor stands, having accompanied her to drop her off.

He's only about to leave when Hermione calls for him. He turns around, ready to angle his mouth to hers for her peck when she grips his scarf, choking him.

A strangled sound comes out of him but she ignores it.

She raises her face to him and plants a kiss on his lips.

"Sorry!" she shouts over the noise of the excited students in the stands, waiting for the Quidditch players. "I was aiming for your cheek!"

Hermione's a shoddy liar. She should at least pretend to aim for his cheek. Graze it at least.

But her actions fill Tom's heart with warmth. This is the first time she kissed him in public.

She was sloppy though. She looked too resolute earlier for it to be by accident. People will talk.

Which might just be better.

"It's fine," he says, and waves goodbye to her.

Behind him, Potter watches the twins, his eyes inquisitive.

* * *

They visit the Chamber every now and then. They don't do it often though, as they're afraid that they might be found out, and that the Chamber of Secrets won't be so secret anymore. Still, it doesn't stop Hermione from sighing wistfully, wishing that she could share the place with Potter and Weasley.

Tom is offended at the mere mention that she thought she could just share the Chamber with just anybody. Especially with two loudmouths. _Especially_ when the Chamber has cursed books, cursed artifacts (as from the fourth room), and a snake that can eat them in one bite.

Hermione insists that they could be trusted.

And so they argue about who to show the Chamber to. Tom tentatively votes for no one (you'll never know who to imprison after all. But Tom doesn't tell this to his sister) while Hermione votes for her friends.

_We're not going to have slumber parties down there, Hermione._

When he mentions that her friends might hurt the Basilisk shut her up.

She is friends with it while Tom considers it their guardian, a protector of sorts, after he warmed up to it.

He made it vow to always protect him and Hermione and it assures them that it will.

Seeing how majestic and impressive the Basilisk is, Tom gets ideas.

_King of the Serpents._

Slytherin has been dead for years now and no one is here to command the Basilisk but him and his sister.

Its purpose is to clean Hogwarts of filth but Hermione opposes to that, saying that magic is magic and that no blood is purer than others.

Tom is disappointed in her that she thinks that but then he remembers that she is a kind person _and_ a Gryffindor. Bleeding hearts, the lot of them.

Tom remembers his childhood dream of world domination.

He gazes upon the Basilisk and thinks that maybe it isn't so farfetched.

He pores over the books in Slytherin's library, learns of spells made by the founders themselves.

He knows he's special. Tom is a genius and is powerful, most of all. He recalls upon one of his worst and most treasured memory: of when Hermione got hit by Morfin and how his first Cruciatus almost made his uncle lose his mind. He remembers the dark magic singing at his fingertips, how drunk on power Tom was, on the intensity of it.

The joy it made it feel.

Once Tom grows older, surely he'll be the most revered wizard of all time. Like the Basilisk who is the King of Serpents, Tom will be the King of Wizards and Witches alike.

The first thing that one needs to become king is power. Power over people who matter and who will matter.

As Tom Riddle the student, underclassmen, some upperclassmen, and the students in his year respect him.

That isn't enough if one aspires to be king, however.

He needs connections, money, and followers.

He has none of the first two. The Gaunt wealth is diminishing, his family's name is tarnished, known only for their blood prejudice and incestuous coupling. He has Malfoy, though, as a follower who believes that Tom is his friend.

He will have to start with that.

One has to remember though, that to lord over people, one has to give them a purpose.

He mulls over what it could be. It takes him weeks and months to think of a purpose when it hits him.

He would purge the world of muggles. Or at least have the wizarding world rule over muggles.

And so Tom devises and schemes. He will have to start his plans on his fifth year though because vacation just started.

He and Hermione are going to the Burrow.

Drat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione should really be more careful around Tom. She's only feeding into his desires. And Tom is a delight to write. He's a fucknut. He also has a lot of fantasies of locking people up and taking their eyes, and that includes his sister.


	6. Chapter 6

He and Hermione spend a week at the Gaunt Manor to check on things.

Their mother meets them at King’s Cross. Her posture is more confident in sharp contrast to when she waited for them last year when she hid her injuries with long sleeved robes. Now, however, her arms show no blemishes, and she’s smiling.

Looks like she defended herself from their uncle quite well.

“Thank you, Tom,” she says, “for giving me those books. And your support most of all.”

He nods in welcome. He has thought a lot over the school year over his actions on helping his mother, namely giving her books on how to protect herself.

He doesn’t mind anymore. Yes, his mother has grown stronger but Tom is confident that he is the more powerful of the two of them. It will still be easy to kill her in the future.

Their uncle is still disgusting and abusive, though he seems a bit more subdued now that Merope isn’t taking any of his shit lying down.

But what confuses Tom most of all is why his mother only defended herself _now_? Did his ‘support’ have that much of an impact on her? And when did he give his support anyway? Or did she confuse the _Crucios_ to his uncle as a way of saving her?

In a way, he _was_ defending her, but Morfin was more of a target practice.

_Is_ more of a target practice.

“ _Crucio!_ ”

Morfin’s knees buckle under him and he sprawls to the ground, tremors racking through his body.

Strangled screams come out of his mouth, cursing Tom to oblivion.

After he finishes practicing, Hermione goes into her routine of Obliviating their uncle, or at least altering his memory, after every Unforgivable that Tom cast. Merope watches in the sidelines sometimes.

“Can you modify his memory so he won’t drink so much anymore?” Merope asks Hermione. “He’s wasting our money on Firewhisky.”

Hermione shakes her head. “Sorry, mum, I can’t. I can only modify his memory, not his habits.”

Tom believes that she probably can with more experience. Maybe she can work on it on their uncle. Have him as her practice dummy as he has.

Nothing much goes on in the Gaunt Manor. Morfin still throws vases at them occasionally, which he and Hermione are quite skilled at dodging. Merope, not so.

When Tom or Hermione gets injured though, the _Crucios_ become more vicious.

Morfin walks around the manor dazed and more absent-minded nowadays. He gets sudden violent attacks that leave him shaking to the ground. It’s clear that Tom’s curses have been affecting him in the long run.

It’s a good thing that Morfin rarely sets foot in the outside world, and when he does, it’s to buy alcohol. Hopefully, no one notices the Cruciatus’ effects on him. Tom would rather not have the authorities knocking on his front door.

If they do though, Tom will have to make Merope his scapegoat, which isn’t that bad of an idea. But that means his uncle will stay at the manor with them.

After a week, Tom and Hermione leave the Gaunt Manor for the Burrow.

They follow the directions written by Ron Weasley and get lost at least twice.

(And, no. It’s not his fault no matter how many times Hermione tells him so.)

They arrive at the Burrow and is greeted by… chaos.

As soon as Molly Weasley opens the door, an explosion blasts behind her.

Mrs. Weasley gasps and whips around to scold her twins, forgetting to welcome them.

“Boys!” she shouts, hands on her hips.

“Sorry, mum!”

“You know how it is.” One twin shrugs.

“Testing our products-”

“-can be quite-”

“-explosive!”

Mrs. Weasley stomps over to them but the twins are fast, they run away, leaving their ‘products’ lying in the front hall, waiting to be detonated. She goes after them and leaves the Riddle twins in the front door.

Tom can already feel the beginnings of a headache and he’s barely been at the burrow for a minute.

“They’re a fun bunch, aren’t they?” Hermione laughs. “But don’t tell Fred and George I said that, okay? They’re lively enough around me as it is.”

_Fun_ isn’t the word Tom would use.

“Should we just go in?” Tom asks. The polite and passive-aggressive thing to do would be to wait at the door. Mrs. Weasley would be apologetic and would be more responsive to his needs then if he does that. “How about we wait for Mrs. Weasley?”

Hermione steps inside, patting her pockets to recheck if she brought her shrunken trunk. “We’ll meet her inside. Come on.”

There goes his plan of an apologetic Mrs. Weasley.

He and Hermione search for her to ask where they will be staying. They meet more of the Weasleys on the way until they reach the bedroom of Weasley.

Ron, he means.

Damn, Tom will have to call them in their first name in his head, a familiarity he doesn’t think they deserve.

“-has arrived,” he hears Mrs. Weasley say. “You should come and greet your friends.”

The Riddle twins enter the bedroom. Ron and Potter are on the floor playing exploding snap.

“Hello, Harry, Ron, Mrs. Weasley.” Three heads turn to the door at Hermione’s voice.

He follows Hermione’s lead and nods to them. “It’s nice to see you again, Harry, Ron. And it’s very nice of you to let us stay here, Mrs. Weasley.”

Mrs. Weasley gasps, then strides over to them, clutching her apron. Tom wonders what happened to her twins. Had they already been reprimanded? He wouldn’t want to wander around the Burrow with explosives just lying around.

Though he doubts they’ll be stopped with just a reprimand.

“Oh, I’m sorry for all the mess! And I’m sorry I didn’t greet you at the door. My poor manners!” she says, fretting over them. “Welcome to our home, dears. And I’m looking for Fred and George. Have you seen them?”

At their negative answer, Mrs. Weasley sighs, welcomes them again, and bumbles away, off to look for the twins.

Tom _knew_ they should have waited at the front door. He should have gone for the passive-aggressive route.

Once Mrs. Weasley leaves, Ron and Potter greet Hermione with the biggest grins Tom has ever witnessed.

And so Hermione, Potter, and Ron talk with each other about everything and nothing at the same time. They talk about what they will do for the vacation, Malfoy and his father, the twins’ upcoming joke shop, dinner, and studies (or rather, Potter and Ron avoid it while Hermione glares at them).

As bored as Tom is with their conversation, and as much as he wants to explore the Burrow, he won’t leave his sister alone to these two fellows. It’s his chance to observe how their friendship works.

Their friendship would be funny if he wasn’t so jealous of them spending time with his sister during most of their days in Hogwarts.

Hermione is the reasonable one, Ron is the idiot, and Potter is the one in between.

Throughout their conversation, Tom has his arm around Hermione’s waist. He caresses her side at intervals, from her hip to just underneath her ribs, just so she won’t forget that he’s there _beside her_. She can’t be too friendly with Potter and Ron.

For good measure, he also rests his cheek on the top of her head.

He occasionally gives his insight here and there, but he’s mostly silent.

Mrs. Weasley calls them up for dinner so the four of them come down to the dining room. It’s so unlike the dinners at the manor that Tom was thrown off for a second. At the Gaunt Manor, dinner is a quiet affair with Hermione and Tom eating with one hand and Merope chiding them. These past two years, Morfin would badmouth them through mouthfuls of food while the twins ignore him.

Here at the Burrow, it’s packed. Tom has to twist himself through crowds of people to get to his seat. It’s warmer too, both literally and figuratively. Due to the small dining room, people are too close to each other that their body heat is more obvious. So many are smiling too that Tom wants to vomit from the happy family image.

He almost misses his uncle.

“You can sit wherever you like,” Mrs. Weasley says to them, holding a pot of stew. “Sorry, it’s a bit packed.”

The table has three seats left. There are no empty chairs beside each other.

Ron waves to Hermione and pats the seat beside him.

Of course.

This is what he signed up for when he agreed to come to the Burrow.

To share his sister.

She squeezes his hand in apology and lets go of him. She whispers to him, “I’m sorry,” and goes to sit between Ron and Potter. Tom takes the seat between one of the twins and Ginevra Weasley, where it’s closest to Hermione.

He’s stuck with the quietest and loudest of Weasleys.

Just great.

“Can I change seats with you, Harry?” Hermione asks. Tom looks up from his plate, eyeing it for a smudge of dirt or a part that’s not completely washed. So far he has encountered nothing.

Potter sits across from Tom.

“Um…” He glances from Hermione to Tom. Then back again. “Alright.” He slides out of his chair to the one beside him on the right.

She takes his seat and smiles at Tom. He returns it, glad that she changed seats for him. He’d prefer to have her beside him but this is as good as he’s going to get for now.

Besides, eating with one hand will most likely weird the Weasleys out. They will ask questions that Hermione won’t like him answering.

Dinner is served and the food is amazing. There’s something about Mrs. Weasley’s cooking that is pleasing to his taste buds. He compliments her cooking and actually means it. He receives a shy, but at the same time, proud, response.

Halfway through the meal, a bare foot tickles his ankle not covered by his shoe. It’s a size 4, and the first and second toe are the same length. The big toe’s texture is rougher than the second one.

He knows that foot anywhere. He has kissed it, washed it, and memorized it.

It’s Hermione’s.

Hiding a smile behind sips of the soup served, he slips his foot out of his shoe to play with hers.

He brushes his toe against the heel of her foot first, tickling her. Then he strokes his toe from her heel to the ball of her foot.

And he notices her suppressed giggles. She pretends to smile at her conversation with Potter but she bites her lip to control her laughter.

This continues for the duration of their dinner and for the days to come.

* * *

He’s on his back on a bed that’s too small. On a bed that’s too cold, devoid of his sister’s warmth.

It’s been four days since they’ve arrived here.

To avoid Morfin, Tom agreed to visit the Burrow for the remainder of their summer vacation.

He did not agree to be separated from Hermione like this.

Summer vacation is the time when the twins can be themselves. They’ll eat while they hold hands, they’ll bathe together, sleep together, kiss under the bed covers, and drink Polyjuice to have the satisfaction of seeing each other as identical.

_This is for Hermione’s safety. This is for Hermione’s safety. This is for Hermione’s safety._

He chants in his head, hoping that repeating it over and over will make his thoughts less selfish. He will have to endure this after all.

He stares at the ceiling, willing himself to sleep around people he doesn’t trust.

He wills himself to sleep while Ron _bloody_ Weasley won’t stop _snoring his throat out._

Tom huffs in frustration.

“Can’t sleep either?” He almost starts from the unexpected voice.

“No,” he answers Potter.

A chuckle. “Ron’s a monster when it comes to snoring. I learned to put silencing charms around my bed in first year because of him.”

Tom hums in reply. He’s not that interested in this conversation. He has no interest in Weasley’s snoring habits and how Potter survived it.

Or maybe he _should_ be interested. He’ll have to live with the fellow for weeks after all.

“Hermione’s really nice, isn’t she?” Potter says, suddenly changing the subject when Tom was only about to ask what silencing charms are the most effective.

“Yes, she is. Sometimes too nice,” Tom says, thinking of his mother and Longbottom.

Potter teases. “Is that the dutiful brother talking?”

He does not appreciate it.

“No, I mean it.” He forces a chuckle out of his mouth, playing Tom Riddle the nice and polite top student. “She does have her moments though.”

“You two are really close huh,” Potter comments.

Oh he has _no_ idea. “As close as twins can be.”

He wants to say that he and Hermione are more than twins, that they are a part of each other, their souls intertwined. She will not live without him, he won’t let her. And he won’t let her leave him either.

But Hermione isn’t ready yet. Her experimental public kisses are still ‘accidental’ when he’s ready for it to be on purpose. However, once she’s ready to shout their relationship to the world, he will be there grinning in victory.

“Are you two-” Potter cuts himself off.

Silence.

“Are we what?” Tom asks.

Seconds tick by and there’s no reply.

He wonders idly if Potter fell asleep to Weasley’s lyrical snores when Potter finally says, “Nothing.”

Tom finds that he does not care enough to ask again.

“Good night, Tom.”

“Good night, Harry.”

He stares at the ceiling again, willing himself to sleep.

But he can’t. Not without knowing that Hermine is only steps away from this bedroom.

So he repeats the 12 uses of Dragon’s Blood. He recalls Hermione’s 11 freckles and the exact placement of each one. He pictures the 10 ways his sister could smile, hears the 9 different moans that she has in his mind, and remembers the 8 spots where he could tickle her.

He continues thinking about his sister until he falls asleep at 3 in the morning.

* * *

He dreams of Hermione.

She’s writhing, panting, moaning. At first, he thought she was being tortured like he did Morfin, and if this is his punishment.

But she’s naked. There are hands all over her, gliding over her heated flesh. They massage her breasts and tickle her sides playfully at times.

The nails of the hands are neatly clipped. They’re clean. There’s no dirt under their fingernails. They’re perfect.

They’re Tom’s hands.

A memory of a book flits through his dream. It contains pictures of human anatomy, of reproductive systems, of sex.

His hand descends to reach the place he touched only by proxy, by using himself as an experiment to figure out where he can pleasure her the most.

“-up, Tom.”

That’s when he wakes up.

He wakes up hard. He can feel the tightness in his pants.

Tom groans.

Of course he had to get hard in a house full of Weasleys, in a bedroom where he’s not alone to take care of it, and where he has to walk across the hall to reach the bathroom.

To be fair, it’s been days since he had any romantic contact with his sister so it makes sense that he would crave her.

And his dream was just getting good too. Why did he have to wake up?

Potter appears in his line of vision. “Wake up, Tom.”

Hard on successfully wilted. Potter’s ugly, messy hair is enough to turn him off.

“It’s time for breakfast.”

Tom yawns, stretching his arms. He shifts to lay on his side and rests his head on his hand to fully see Potter and Ron. “You go ahead. I’ll ready myself first.”

He needs to comb his hair, brush his teeth squeaky clean, and ensure that he’s presentable. He has to keep up his good boy appearance no matter how much he’d rather crawl to Hermione’s bed and stay with her doing naughty things.

“All right, mate,” says Ron. “I’ll try to keep Fred and George from taking your share while you go do your business.”

Potter waves at him. “See you downstairs, Tom.”

Tom sighs and plops his head back to the pillow.

Give him 5 minutes.

He didn’t get enough rest from Ron’s _bloody_ snores!

Just 5 minutes.

Just 5...

He goes back to sleep.

* * *

“Tom?”

A snort.

“Tom?”

Someone is shaking him awake. Someone is annoying him.

Hermione's hands.

He opens one eye.

“What do you want?” he grumbles. “I couldn’t sleep with Ron Weasley. Leave me.” He closes the eye.

She chuckles.

“You still need to eat breakfast.”

Breakfast.

Yes… Breakfast.

Hermione sits on his bed. He’s on his side, her back touching his stomach.

He grabs her and flips her under him.

“Hmm… Breakfast,” he mumbles drowsily, still not fully awake.

He eats his breakfast in the form of tasting her lips. He licks her bottom lip, then sucks on it, prompting her to open her mouth.

Hermione moans and he remembers the lovely dream he had. Where she and Tom were naked.

“Tom, we can’t do this here,” she whispers, though her hands slip beneath his shirt to get more skin contact. “People will notice.”

“Let them notice,” he says against her sweet sweet lips. “Or do your public kisses mean nothing?”

Let the others stumble upon them like this. Let them _see._

“I… I want everyone to know too but-” Tom kisses her behind her ear and she giggles. “I’m taking it slowly. I’m not ready yet. I mean- what if they isolate us?”

He sighs loudly. “Fine. I’ll wait.”

But why does society have to dictate who they love? Why does Hermione have to be embarrassed by their relationship?

He grips her hips tighter and bites her lips, drawing blood, angry at her for being ashamed at them.

They’re doing nothing wrong. They’re just twins who want to love each other in every way: as siblings, as lovers, and even as each other.

Once Tom rules the world, no one will have to say that his feelings are wrong.

He sucks on her bottom lip one last time, so it becomes swollen. He pulls away from her and sits up, searching for his slippers on the floor. “I have to get ready. You go first.”

_Let them notice her swollen lips. Let them notice her swollen lips._

She stares at him from the bed, her brows furrowed. “I just need time, Tom. I know you’re angry.” She gives him a small smile. “You bite harder when you are. You grab my hips like you want to crush me too, and you dig your nails in.”

She knows him too well.

He smirks at her before gesturing her to leave. “Go away before I attack you again.” His smirk transforms into a sly grin. “Unless you want to see me change clothes.”

She sniffs haughtily. “As if I want to see your skinny body.”

He’s _lean_ , not skinny.

“You couldn’t take your hands off this skinny body earlier.”

_Lean._

She gets up from the bed and walks to the door. With her hand on the handle, she says, laughing, “I sure couldn’t,” and then leaves him to clean himself.

He rises from the bed, stretching. His muscles crack and _damn_ it feels good to finally kiss Hermione again.

_And_. It feels good to have someone learn of their relationship.

He keeps himself from grinning, arranging his features into a neutral expression instead.

“I know you’re there, Harry.”

An awkward cough.

On the other side of the room, Potter pokes his head out from under the covers of his bed.

“Er… That’s…” Potter coughs again. “What was that?”

Tom stares at him, his eyes penetrating. “It is what it is,” he says. “Hermione and I are in love with each other.” Then he gives him a pleading look. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

Potter finally comes out of the covers. He sits up and plays with his clothes, rubs the back of his neck.

He probably doesn’t know what to do.

“But you’re… you’re twins.”

You see, Potter is his guinea pig. If what he will tell him now will work, there’s a chance that once his relationship with Hermione is out in the open and he tells them what he will tell Potter, people will most likely accept their relationship. Or at least tolerate it.

“Yes, we are,” he replies.

“Then why…” Potter trails off, not knowing what else to say.

“Hermione has always been with me,” Tom starts, biting his lip. “Our father abandoned us, and our mother, weak as she is, struggled to raise us. So I always had to look out for Hermione and she did the same for me.”

Potter shakes his head. “Tom, you’re still siblings. That’s… that’s just wrong.”

Tom clutches his sleeping robes. Tears shine in his eyes. “I only have her, Harry,” he croaks. “When our uncle came back from Azkaban, we had to protect ourselves. We grew closer from his abuse.

“And yes, maybe our feelings were vulnerable at that time, maybe we were reckless, stupid, too young. But at that time, she was the only one for me.”

Potter watches him lay out his false feelings.

_As if_ their love birthed from Morfin. The very thought is disgusting, but playing the poor, abused twins that found love in each other might work. Which is why he has Potter here. To see whether it will.

“She makes me feel safe,” he says. “I love her. And maybe that’s wrong to you but it’s not to me. For us, it’s perfect.”

He could always have Hermione Obliviate him if he reacts negatively, like spreading their relationship to others prematurely.

Potter worries his lip with his teeth, debating something in his head. “The truth is,” he says, “I already knew.”

Tom’s eyebrows flew up to his forehead, forgetting his despaired persona. “ _What_?”

Potter rubs his nose. “I- er- I always thought you two were too close for twins. I’ve seen affectionate siblings but never _that_ affectionate.” He clears his throat. “And then there were your ‘accidental’ kisses.” He looks at Tom in the eye. “They weren’t really accidental, were they?”

If Potter found out about his relationship with Hermione with that, then perhaps someone else might already know. _People_.

Which is just _excellent._

Tom stares back, evaluating.

“No, they weren’t.”

Harry chuckles nervously. “Yeah, I thought they weren’t.”

So Potter already knew. Which means he needs another guinea pig then.

“What are you going to do then?” Tom crosses his arms. “Now that you know.”

Potter shrugs. “I… I don’t know.”

“You’re not going to tell?”

He sighs. “No. It’s not my secret to tell.”

Tom isn’t sure whether Potter’s word is to be believed. Hermione trusts this boy, but she has never been the greatest when it comes to reading people.

“I just have something to tell you,” Potter says. “Now that I’ve confirmed that you and Hermione are… er…”

“In love,” Tom supplies helpfully. He won’t have anyone second-guessing his relationship with Hermione.

Potter picks at a lint on his robes. “Yes. In love.”

Tom waits for Potter to find his voice, his mind still going through what he knows of Potter’s personality. He’s honorable, from what he’s heard from Hermione. But his sister is biased when it comes to her friends.

Potter then stares at him hard. “Don’t hurt Hermione.”

Tom is taken aback. “I’m sorry?”

Potter continues, “She’s my friend, so, of course I’m going to look after when she gets a- er- boyfriend of sorts.” He shrugs. “She’s like a sister to me-”

“ _She’s **not** your sister!_ ” Tom hisses.

This _bloody-_

Potter’s eyes widen. “NO! Not _that_ kind of sister like your kind of sister. I meant- I love her as a regular sis-”

“No!” he cuts off. “I am her _only_ brother.” He breathes hard, offended, _furious_ , at what Potter had thought.

How dare he? Is that what he was going to do?! Take his place as Hermione’s brother?

Tom reaches for his wand, a _Crucio_ on the tip of his tongue.

Potter holds his hands up in a placating gesture. Tom must have forgotten to control his facade because Potter looks terrified now. “Look- I just meant that I want to protect Hermione’s feelings!”

“Protect her? _From me?”_

“I am her friend! Which makes me protective of her- and you’re popular with girls and you know how Hermione can be very jealous and as I said, I’m just looking out for her as her friend so you can put that wand down now!”

Tom blinks in surprise. He has his wand clenched tight in his fingers, a little more force and the wand would break. It’s pointed at Potter.

He couldn’t control his anger.

He brings down his arm, ashamed. He should have controlled his anger better, should have worn his mask better. But when he heard Potter say that he considers Hermione his sister he just-

He lets out a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” He laughs. “I’m quite the possessive brother, aren’t I?”

Potter eyes him warily. “No kidding.”

“I apologize again,” Tom says, not meaning it, the good boy facade is back. “It’s just- Hermione’s important to me. I thought you were trying to come between us.”

Potter stands up and approaches Tom. “I care for Hermione’s happiness. So if you do make her unhappy, I _will_ come between you two.”

Tom pockets his wand lest he raises it against Potter again.

His mask cracks yet again.

“Are you threatening me?” Tom steps forward so he’s a foot away from him. Tom is bigger than him, perhaps his height will intimidate Potter.

But Potter stands tall, his eyes not straying away from Tom’s.

“No,” Potter says, though the tone of his voice indicates the opposite. “But if Hermione comes to me and Ron crying and can’t explain to us why and won’t talk to you, I’m blaming you.”

Foolish boy.

Tom sneers at him, his innocent face falling entirely. For some reason, Potter is bringing out his real self. “If you think I’m going to leave Hermione just because some _friend_ warned me-”

Potter taunts, “I’m not just her friend, I consider her as _my sister_ -”

Tom pushes him away, rage in his heart.

_If he tells me she’s like a sister to him **one more time**_ -

“-but not like you consider her as a sister because it’s _disgusting-”_

Tom cries out in rage and punches Potter.

Potter stumbles and puts a hand on his now cracked nose and glasses.

His knuckles hurt but the satisfaction of seeing Potter’s nose bloody numbs the pain.

He reaches for his wand again. This time, he won’t hesitate to use the Cruciatus Curse.

But then Ginevra Weasley bursts into the room.

“What- what happened?” She hurries to Potter and puts an arm around him. “Are you alright, Harry?”

And just like that, Tom Riddle the polite and top student returns.

He apologizes to Potter. His eyes are worried, he bites his lip, and he runs a hand through his hair, the perfect image of an apologetic person. “I’m sorry- I don’t know why I did that- I- I’m _really_ sorry.”

He heals his knuckles and Potter’s nose before he could say anything about it. He cleans up the blood too with a _Scourgify_ and repairs his glasses with a _Reparo_ , that way, no evidence of his punch remains.

The only problem is that they have a witness.

Memory charms aren’t Tom’s expertise but he can charm a person from saying anything to anyone.

He has to charm Ginevra Weasley.

Plus, she can be his next Guinea pig.

* * *

He asked for Potter’s forgiveness again in front of Ginevra, making sure that his face and his body language convey the correct message across.

_I lost my temper. And I’m sorry you had to see that, Ginevra._ _Please don’t say anything to the others, I’m so ashamed of myself._

Ginevra nodded, though she said that he was apologizing to the wrong person.

And so came another round of _sorry’s_ and _forgive me’s_.

Tom hates apologizing even when he doesn’t mean it. It degrades you as a person. It means you were wrong. And Tom is rarely wrong in anything.

The fact that he had to vomit apologies left and right just so Ginevra shuts up about his lack of control made him actually nauseous.

He told Hermione about the fight because he’d rather poison her against Potter first before her friend gets to her. Their friendship builds on trust so Tom had a feeling that Potter would tell her about finding out and Tom knowing about it.

So Tom got to her first before Potter could butter up to his sister.

_He called us disgusting_ , Tom said.

He almost feels bad for making her cry. But it had to be done.

Tom wanders around the Burrow, smugly observing the awkwardness around Potter and Hermione. He hasn’t talked with Ginevra yet, he doesn’t want to seem like he wants to cover up his punch by acting all innocent to her. He sends her unsure smiles though, as if he’s embarrassed at being caught fighting someone.

He helps Mrs. Weasley with cooking after he told her that he usually helps his mother with it. The kitchen is small, but he endures it because her cooking is delicious compared to his mother’s food. Mrs. Weasley gushes over him and Tom relishes the praises she gives generously.

He also steals her recipes.

In private, he taunts Potter about his awkwardness with Hermione.

_You found out the truth and now you avoid her_ , Tom clicks his tongue. _Some friend you are._

And he had the gall to declare that Hermione is like a sister to him?

_So this is your true face_ , Potter tells him.

Tom doesn’t care that he knows. It’s nice to finally drop his mask of politeness to someone, especially when he can express his disdain, his anger to that said someone.

Tom, Hermione, Potter, and Ron usually hang around in Ron’s bedroom. Sometimes they play chess (and he is surprised to discover that Ron is good at it. Who knew? Maybe he isn’t such a caveman after all), or exploding snap while the Riddle twins read in the sidelines, or just talk in general.

When Ron leaves the room, to go to the loo, for example, Tom takes the opportunity to rub his relationship with Hermione to Potter’s face.

When the three of them are alone, Tom immediately plants a kiss on her lips, no matter where and when they are. Sometimes, he’ll sneak a few kisses to her neck when he can get away with it.

Potter usually looks like he wants to bolt from the room.

The only problem is, that while Hermione is somewhat relieved that someone she trusts now knows about them and accepts it (in a way), it makes her uncomfortable that Tom is making Potter uncomfortable.

“Can’t you see that you’re upsetting her?” says Potter one day.

True. Hermione became stiff when he nipped her ear so suddenly without warning.

Tom sneers. “It’s because you’re here.” He puts his arm around Hermione, pulling her further to his side, though there’s barely any space between them anymore on the bed they’re sitting on.

“It’s _because_ you’re bothering her,” Potter snaps back.

Hermione snaps her book closed, the sound making them jump. “It’s _because_ you two won’t get along!”

Potter sends her a sheepish look. “Sorry, Hermione.” He glares at Tom though. “It just seemed like you didn’t like it.”

Hermione sighs. She stares at her book, not meeting her eyes with Potter. “I didn’t like it because it bothers you.”

Tom stiffens.

“Oh,” Potter says lamely.

Does this mean that Potter’s opinion matters enough to her that she’s uncomfortable with their relationship now?

He digs his nails into Hermione’s side.

_She?_ _His sister?_ Shouldn’t no one matter when it comes to them?! Shouldn’t it be that they’ll have each other, no matter what happens? No matter what anyone says about them?

Her betrayal tastes like ash in his mouth.

How- what should he do with this information? Should he curse her? Punish her?

If her _friend_ ’s opinion matters more than their relationship, then maybe that means Hermione doesn’t think she needs him anymore.

Then his imagination runs wild again.

He won’t let her. He could educate her on that, lock her up in the Chamber of Secrets. He’ll chain her and she won’t be able to escape. The only one she’ll ever talk to will be him, the only one she’ll ever see is him, and the only one she’ll ever love again is him.

**_Only him only him._ **

Hermione’s sudden intake of breath reminds him that he’s still crushing her ribs with his hand.

She doesn’t cry out in pain like she usually does when they’re alone and he’s too rough.

She’s hiding her pain.

_She’s hiding it from Potter._

And just like that, Tom’s rage deflates. He loosens his hold on her and she breathes easily again.

She wants Potter to think that Tom isn’t hurting her. Because if he even suspects something fishy about Tom, she knows he’ll interfere with them.

“Tom,” she says. “I want to talk to Harry in private. Please.”

He narrows his eyes at her.

She stares back, unflinching, unapologetic. She won’t take no for an answer.

“Fine,” he grits out and pushes himself up from the bed to leave the room.

“Oh! And don’t let Ron enter the room before we finish talking.”

He slams the door on his way out.

He doesn’t wait for them to sort their issues out, because Tom knows they _will_ reconcile. Observing their friendship for days now means that Tom is familiar with how Hermione and Potter work with each other.

He leaves the corridor he’s in and catches Ron speaking with Ginevra. He doesn’t bother warning Ron to not barge in while Hermione and Potter are talking.

Tom wanders around the Burrow again, familiar with its interior by now.

On his way to the kitchen, hoping to come upon Mrs. Weasley so they can start to prepare for dinner early, he stumbles upon the twins.

They’re up to something, as they always do. A fleshy string-like object is connected to their ears, and it goes all the way down to the kitchen.

He raises an eyebrow. “What’s that?” he asks, curious.

One of the twins grin. (And how Tom _loathes_ that he can’t tell them apart.) “We call it Extendable Ears. You can use it to listen from a distance.”

“Eavesdrop, you mean.”

“ _Listen_ ,” the twin corrects. He’ll assume this is Fred Weasley. “Do you want to try?” He takes out the string-like object from his ear.

Tom manages to not scrunch his face in disgust. That thing just came from his ear. As if he’s going to touch that. “Do you have another Extendable Ear?”

Fred laughs. “Oh, yes. Sorry.” He searches his robes until he finds it and hands him another one.

Tom takes the Extendable Ear, whispering a quick _Scourgify_ under his breath, wandless. One can never be too sure.

He inserts it to his ear and hears the humming of Mrs. Weasley from the kitchen. The quality is scratchy. The sound isn’t quite clear and there’s a bit of buzzing.

“It’s a prototype, see,” George says, “So it isn’t perfect yet.”

He could borrow this right now and listen to Hermione’s and Potter’s conversation. But he already knows how that will turn out so it’s no use anyway.

He has a better idea.

Tom grins. “Can I help?”

A tool for eavesdropping might come in handy one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘tis prophesied that Voldemort and Harry will forever be enemies.
> 
> Anyway, I didn’t expect the Burrow to be this long. They’ll be back in Hogwarts next chapter after a little more Burrow. We’ll see Neville again >:)


	7. Chapter 7

To his utter frustration, Hermione and Potter are back to normal again. Like _best friends._

And it _hurts_ , because Potter badmouthed their relationship, was disgusted by it, and yet that didn't deter Hermione still from continuing her friendship with him.

So Tom stays away from Hermione to lick his wounds. He spends time with Fred, George, and occasionally Ginevra, to placate her from that time she witnessed the aftermath of him punching Potter.

Fred and George are actually great to be with. Tom is surprised to be having fun with them.

The twins plan to make a shop that sells their inventions. When Tom asked what inventions they were, they told him various ingenious ideas and showed him their blueprints. He was to assist them after all.

The first product he helps on is the Extendable Ears. Out of all their ideas, it seems the most useful to him.

He researches during the day and tinkers with the twins during the night. He makes suggestions and Fred and George either accept them or reject them. Whenever they try something new, add or remove an ingredient or spell, explosions occasionally occur so they mess with their inventions outside the Burrow.

During these days, he doesn't touch Hermione and he barely says anything to her.

_The twins are keeping me busy. Sorry about that._

She bites her lip and sniffs.

Tom convinces himself not to care. He's punishing her. She should be glad that as much as he wants to imprison her, he doesn't go through with it because he knows that she will be heartbroken if she can't attend classes or be around people.

So he buries himself with projects to avoid her in the meantime.

With his help, he and the twins have created and enhanced a total of 3 products, including Nosebleed Nougat, Puking Pastilles, and Extendable Ears. Which isn't bad considering they only had the vacation to make them.

He's pretty impressed with himself and Fred and George.

Potter's glare becomes fiercer as the days go by as he barely makes contact with Hermione. Even Ron has noticed.

The idiot duo tried to ambush him once, but thankfully, the twins were nearby so he was able to avoid confrontation. There was no telling what he would do while he was full of jealousy.

So here he stays in the living room, instead of Ron's bedroom where Hermione is, reading a book on possible ways to transform fireworks into various designs.

"You've been avoiding Hermione, aren't you?" Ginevra says from a chair beside the couch he's sitting on. "Why?"

Nosy chit. She should just stay silent.

"We had a row," Tom simply replies. He has no intention of relaying his problem with his sister to someone he's barely acquainted with.

"About what?" _Merlin,_ why can't she shut up?

"We don't see eye to eye about something."

Ginevra chuckles. "That's a very Slytherin answer."

Tom flips a page, deciding whether to smile at her to share her joke or to ignore her to send a message that he's busy.

She's a guinea pig, he reminds himself. And someone who's wary of him because of his attack on Potter.

He shrugs, giving her a strained smile. "I guess so. I don't really want to talk about it, you see. I'm still hurt by what she did."

Ginevra nods in understanding. "My brothers do that sometimes, not apologizing even though they're the wrong ones."

 _Guinea pig_.

Tom sees the opportunity and grabs it.

He 'opens' up to her, tells her about how important Hermione is to him, how he'll do anything for his sister, how he protected her from Morfin, yet she doesn't seem to feel the same. He gives her half-truths and rarely outright lies. It's easier to maintain a story when most of it is true after all.

He receives Ginevra's sympathy.

Phase 1 of revealing his incestuous relationship is now in progress.

Phase 2 is weaving more intimate details on their life, like kissing on the lips, and have Ginevra wonder if siblings are supposed to be that affectionate. Phase 2 is for Hogwarts. He'll continue Phase 1 in the burrow.

Though his conversation with Ginevra makes him miss Hermione.

The days go by and the days go by as he ignores his sister.

He doesn't play footsie with her anymore. He hasn't kissed her for a long time now, not even on the cheeks. He hasn't received any happy smiles from her.

He hasn't had Hermione and now he's _hungry._

He wants his sister. He misses her. He needs to hold her again, needs to kiss her again, needs to feel her skin against his by touching her or at least by feeling her hand in his.

In the shower, he takes care of himself, spilling his seed into his hands, dirtying himself. He imagines having Hermione again for himself.

This punishment is his as much as it is hers.

"It must be hard," Ginevra says, "not talking to your sister.

Yes, it is.

She leaves her chair to sit on the space to his right. There is only a foot of space between them.

She raises a hand, unsure, and his fingers clutch the edges of his book.

_Don't do it._

He loathes being touched by people other than Hermione. If Ginevra lays a finger on him, when he hasn't touched his sister for days now, he might just slap her.

"Tom?" Hermione's voice calls for him from somewhere outside the living room.

Ginevra's hand retracts.

_Thank Merlin._

"Where are you?"

"I'm in the living room!" he shouts. Perhaps it's time to make up with his sister.

She has a lot of groveling to do.

She enters the room and her eyes fly between Tom and Ginevra.

She asks, voice small, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, you're not," Tom immediately says, standing up, moving away from Ginevra's dirty hands and toward Hermione. "What is it?"

She fidgets and plays with her fingers. "Can we talk?" She glances at Ginevra. "Upstairs?"

_Yes._

_Yes, they can talk._

"We can." He stares at her lips. They look invitingly pink.

 _Or they can_ _ **not**_ _talk._ They can do something else instead.

Hermione must have noticed his gaze because the tips of her ears redden.

She punches him lightly for that. "Let's go."

Tom sucks in a breath.

Her hand was warm. So warm.

It's been so _long_.

He follows after her, after excusing himself from Ginevra. She sends him a two thumbs up as encouragement and he smiles in response. As if he needed that.

When they enter Ron's bedroom, the idiot duo are nowhere to be found.

"They're giving us space," Hermione says as an explanation.

"Space for what?" He makes eye contact with her. Finally, he has Hermione's attention to himself now.

He takes slow steps toward her. The distance between them decreases with each step. Only a little more and he can hold her again, touch her again.

Hermione takes a deep breath.

"I'm here to tell you that I'll never stop being friends with Harry."

He stops and clenches his fist before turning around to leave the room.

He hears quick footsteps approaching him before he gets hugged by Hermione from behind. She sighs at the contact.

"And I'm here to tell you that I won't have you avoiding me anymore, even if I have to annoy you."

She squeezes her arms around him tighter and tighter until she cuts off his air supply, making her point.

"In exchange for my forgiveness," he starts, trying not to wheeze because he's trying to be serious here, "you will-"

"I told Ron about us."

Silence.

"He yelled at me, was disgusted by me but in the end, he accepted it because he's my friend." She pulls away from him before she turns him around to face her.

He keeps his expression carefully blank.

"They're my _friends_ and they won't ever leave me and I won't leave them."

What is even Hermione trying to point out? Is she just going to rub his jealousy to his face?

"And I won't ever let you leave me even when my friends are prats. You don't get to do that!" she shouts. "I won't ever leave you, Tom. _Remember that._ "

He looks into her eyes, evaluating, calculating whether he can persuade her into leaving her friends for him.

But her lovely browns are bright and determined. Whatever he says now, she will still go through with her words, choosing both him and her friends.

He slides his fingers with hers, squeezing them, before untangling them to stroke the skin on her wrists. He grabs them loosely and she shivers in anticipation.

"Fine," he says. "But on one condition."

She rolls her eyes. On the inside though, she's relieved that he didn't put up much of a fight.

"Okay," she says. "What is it?"

He lets go of her wrists to rest his hands on her shoulders. He brushes his thumbs along her collarbone.

"Let me wrap my hands around your neck."

She freezes.

"What?" she whispers.

"I promise you won't dislike it." He smirks. "I'm not going to strangle you, don't worry."

She stares at him warily, and Tom understands. He's angry with her, of course she's going to be a bit suspicious. But he's telling the truth that he wouldn't harm her.

A few beats later, she nods.

Tom grins.

When he envelopes her neck with his hands, he could feel her pulse jump beneath his fingers. He grazes the center of her throat with his thumbnail.

From far away, her neck seems so smooth, strong, and there's a graceful curve to it. But in this distance, he can see all the imperfections, the flaws.

It looks so fragile.

 _Breakable_.

Had he been anyone else, Hermione would have already cursed them.

Only he gets this privilege.

He could snap her neck in this position. Her heartbeat will stop, and she won't take one more breath anymore.

If he kills her, she wouldn't be with her friends anymore. He would own her last breath. Only he will have her, no one else.

He uses a bit of pressure and she gasps.

_Thumpthumpthump._

Her pulse is fast. It races, and he wonders why. Is it from fear? From anticipation?

Desire?

Tom licks his lips and tears his gaze away from her neck to her eyes.

Ah. It's desire then.

Oh if only she knew where his thoughts run. Would she still want him then? Or would she cry in horror? Or would she love the idea that his obsession with her runs so deep that he even contemplates of killing her?

"You like this," he says.

"Maybe," is her daring response.

He can feel the vibrations on her throat as she speaks.

He steps closer to her until their breaths tangle. He squeezes lightly again and she chokes a moan.

Tom chuckles. "Would you like me to go harder?"

She glares at him. "I want you to not avoid me anymore."

He plans to.

"As long as you grovel before me until I'm satisfied."

She retorts, "You know, choosing both your friends and family isn't wrong."

" _Potter_ called you his _sister_ ," he spats, his thumbs press against her throat harder and her breath stutters. "He threatened me that if I were to ever hurt you- _as if_ I would hurt you-"

"He was only trying to look out for me!" Hermione wheezes, and Tom loosens his hold. "You should be thankful he's trying to protect your sister." Then she can't help but add, "Though I don't need protecting."

Tom says nothing so she rolls her eyes. "Oh and if you tell me that I'm only yours to protect I'm going to hit you."

That's what he was thinking. He wisely shuts up though. He's here to make up with Hermione. Though he's also here to give her a tongue-lashing about her choice of friends.

"So," Hermione breathes, "are we okay?"

"We're okay," Tom says. "As long as your friends stay out of our way."

He seals their deal with a kiss.

* * *

And so Tom goes back to rubbing his relationship with Hermione to Potter's and Ron's faces. He keeps it light though, like pecking her on the lips, so as not to make a repeat performance of last time with Potter.

They try to keep their faces neutral so they won't upset Hermione, but they can't help twitching, like they want to either stop them or leave the room.

Ginevra hasn't said anything about his punch to anyone and that is good news to Tom. She might have already forgotten it even.

He continues feeding her information on him and Hermione, and she eats it all up.

She's boring, dull, uninteresting, and every other synonym there is but Tom keeps making small talk with her because he needs her to be his experiment.

He wonders how she'll react once she realizes that his feelings for his sister aren't as platonic as she believes it to be.

In retrospect, what he did to Potter was not entirely calculated. He should have slowed himself down.

But Tom was too jealous of Potter and his friendship with Hermione. His emotions got the better of him. He wanted Potter to know _immediately_ that Hermione was his so he revealed their relationship so suddenly with no warning.

Nevertheless, the outcome was favorable. Hermione managed to calm Potter down. And Ron. And he's also back to playing footsie with Hermione.

A few days later, owls arrive at the Burrow, carrying their Hogwarts letters.

His letter is heavier than what it should be, and when he opens it, a badge falls out of the letter.

It's a prefect badge.

No doubt, Hermione also has one. He looks over to her to see that he's correct. In her hands is a badge.

He meets her eyes and grins.

They can finally use the prefect's bathroom.

* * *

They're back at Hogwarts. To their real home.

As soon as they set foot on Hogwarts soil, he and Hermione immediately delve back into the library.

She searches for books on memory charms, eager to help their mother on Morfin. Tom, meanwhile, creates a list of books on wizarding laws and Legilimency.

Tom still isn't sure whether he plans to become Minister of Magic or become a Dark Lord like Grindelwald. Becoming Minister means that his rule to power will come more smoothly but becoming Dark Lord shortens the time it will need to take over Britain.

The Legilimency is for his followers. He will have to know if they have any thoughts on betrayal so he can immediately do something about it. Perhaps dispose of them or something more efficient.

He can also use Legilimency on Hermione. He'd love to see what she's always thinking about. Does she always think of him like he always thinks of her? She should. He wouldn't be too happy if it's the opposite.

He wishes he could read her mind now. Because they're on their way to the prefect's bathroom.

Hermione giggles, swinging their hands in a wide arc. "We can finally take a bath together in Hogwarts." She's practically bouncing while they walk.

Her enthusiasm is contagious. His smile stretches from ear to ear and he isn't doing anything to control her swinging. "Yes, finally."

They enter the bathroom and take off each other's clothes. After that, they get in the tub.

Tom is at peace now.

He scrubs her front and her back and she does the same to him. He notices that she keeps hugging him too from happiness, her breasts squishing against him.

His manhood stirs a little at that but he tries to keep it at bay. It's been way too long since he held Hermione and it's only acting up from the deprivation of her touch.

This isn't supposed to be sexual after all. It's a sacred act to them, to bathe each other, to expose themselves to each other and clean all the dirt and stains on their body.

They cleanse their body with each other's hands. This is what it is.

And now they can do it in Hogwarts.

"You're so tall now," Hermione comments, looking up to him.

"And you're too small," he says back to her. Only a little more and the top of her head will only reach his chin.

With a loofa on her hand, she rubs and cleans his chest properly. "And you don't have breasts."

She's talking about their differences. It's been a while since they did that.

"Your hair is longer than mine." He runs his fingers through her hair and they get tangled.

"Our bodies are too different now." She stops scrubbing him, but she still rests her hand on his chest. "You know, while we were at the Burrow, I couldn't help but seethe in envy every time I see Fred and George." She sighs sadly. "We could have been identical, that's what I always think whenever I see the twins."

True.

"If only there's something like a permanent Polyjuice Potion," Tom says.

He examines her breasts again. Then his chest. Her curves. His form. Her cunt. His dick.

Differences. Differences.

Female. Male.

He still hates his mother for not birthing identical twins.

Tom glares at her. "You're spoiling my mood."

Hermione laughs. "I'm sorry. I just saw Fred and George too much at the Burrow and they got me thinking." She bites her lip before continuing with her scrubbing.

Tom has his hands on her waist. He pinches the bit of fat on her belly and she giggles.

"It isn't so bad, I think, to be different like this," he says.

She raises an eyebrow. "Who was it again that was so upset about our hair when we were kids he threw mum to the wall?"

Tom shrugs. "I'm looking on the bright side now."

She doubles over in laughter. " _You?_ Bright side? Who are you and what did you do to my brother?"

He pinches her belly again, this time harder. He smirks when she yelps in pain.

"Think of it this way," he says. "There's so much about our bodies that we can discover. I learn you, and you learn me." He grins. "Using Polyjuice."

She blushes. "Like when you touched my... when you transformed as me?" Yes, when he touched her entrance as her. Then she glares. "You know, you've been hogging all the Polyjuice these past few months. You should give me a chance to be you sometime."

"As I said, I've been learning you," Tom defends. "You want to know why you always feel good whenever we kiss? It's because I've been studying your body. You don't see me doing silly things whenever I use Polyjuice like _somebody_ here."

Hermione sticks out her tongue and he pinches her again.

"Have you finished 'learning' me then?" she asks.

Yes. And he tells her that he can show her what skills he has acquired through studying her in the future. Preferably naked.

Books say that a woman has something called a g-spot. He tried to reach it before but couldn't because Hermione's fingers were too short. Perhaps with his own fingers, he could finally reach it.

It's unfortunate that he couldn't feel it for himself though, because he wants to know how she will enjoy that spot too.

Because he's obsessed with his sister. He desires her. _Everything_ of her. He wants her love, her soul, her body, her thoughts, he wants to _be_ her.

If ever anyone will interfere with their relationship, he will probably torture them. Or kill them.

He almost tortured Potter back at the Burrow. Tom forgot that he was surrounded by people, that there would be a lot of witnesses. It was both a good and bad thing that Ginevra burst into the room when he was almost out of control.

This is his love.

* * *

Before Tom gathers his followers, he will have to read on laws first and practice Legilimency.

For weeks, he pores over books and tomes. When Hermione asks, he tells her truthfully that he plans to either become Minister of Magic or Dark Lord and that he's studying Legilimency to read her mind.

She rolls her eyes, thinking that he's making a joke over the Dark Lord one. It annoys him a bit that she doesn't believe him, but he's a bit thankful too. If she knew that he plans to rule over the muggle world as well, she's going to have nasty words about that.

He's leaning toward Minister of Magic though. If he's Dark Lord, then 'EVIL' will be planted on his forehead and people would try to stop him. If he becomes Minister, he could put on an angelic face, and his followers would be placed in strategic positions in the Ministry.

For his first followers, he chooses his housemates.

Slytherins are an ambitious bunch. He knows that Malfoy, Parkinson, Nott, Zabini, and others would want power. They're also prejudiced. If he told them that he wants wizards to rule over the muggle, they would most likely follow him. The only problem is whether he can persuade them or not.

If he can't, then he might as well say goodbye to his dream of world domination.

He also reads on laws regarding dark magic. Use of Unforgivables warrants a stay in Azkaban. And Killing Curses would mean a life sentence in prison.

His uncle killed muggles, his mother told him. Or was that just the imagination of a deranged and mad wizard?

But if the Killing Curse earns a life sentence in Azkaban, then Tom can use that to get Morfin out of the Gaunt Manor.

To get _both_ his mother and his uncle out of the Gaunt Manor without exposing himself as the killer.

He finally has a decent plan.

Tom hums under his breath, tapping his fingers in a rhythm on the pages of the book he's reading and-

Drat.

In order to be able to live without a guardian, they must be at least 17 years old, or else they would have to live with relatives closest to them or be sent to an orphanage.

Tom would rather break his bones than live with his filthy muggle of a father.

"Sorry, Tom," Hermione says from beside him. She stands and gathers her things. "Neville asked me to see him in the greenhouses this afternoon."

Tom frowns. Longbottom? "What for?"

Hermione shrugs and tucks a hair into her ear. "He didn't say. He seemed a bit nervous though."

He has a bad feeling about this.

"Can I come?"

Hermione sends him an apologetic look. "Neville said to come alone. I don't know why but I'm sorry, Tom."

_Neville said to come alone._

Oh, Merlin. He knew this day would come.

Longbottom is going to _confess_.

He grips the edge of the book hard. A few pages crumple underneath his hand.

"Fine. Go."

He will follow her.

She waves goodbye to him and leaves.

He waits for a few seconds before casting a silencing spell around him. He glances around if there are people around him and sees nothing.

Tom grips his book hard, his hands shaking, and a page rips from its spine.

"AAAAUURGH!" He roars and hurls the book to the wall. Sheets of paper scatter across the floor, and had Tom been in his right mind, he would have lamented the destroyed book.

But his rage hasn't calmed yet. He can't breathe properly. He's heaving, panting, and his heart rate won't slow down.

For good measure, he stands up and kicks the chair he was sitting on. It skids to the floor before it falls harshly, the sound banging. He punches the table too, multiple times, leaving a dent until his knuckles ache and burn.

He's going to kill Longbottom.

He's going to _kill_ him.

A quick _reparo_ and the book is fixed. He gathers his things and shoves them messily into his bag, he has already wasted so much time venting his anger out. He has to follow Hermione immediately.

He walks and jogs at intervals, so no one can scold him, to the greenhouses with worry in his heart. He can only hope that he's wrong about Longbottom.

He hopes that Longbottom was only asking for help about Herbology.

Tom arrives at his destination but he doesn't know _which_ greenhouse they will meet in.

He checks the first one, crouching low so no one will see him. No voices can be heard so Tom leaves.

He goes to the second one, and he picks up muffled sounds.

Hermione's voice.

He can't hear what they're talking about and Tom still doesn't know how to disillusion himself. If only there was-

The Extendable Ears that he and the twins perfected!

He rummages his bag for the string-like object. Once he finds it, he immediately connects one end to his ear and levitates the other end near Hermione's and Longbottom's position.

Now, he listens.

"-can't believe for help, Neville. I _know_ you're better than I am in Herbology."

A nervous clearing of the throat.

"Well, I- I needed help in this particular topic."

 _Oh_ how Longbottom's suave skills make Tom's heart flutter.

Hermione and Longbottom discuss the plant they're inspecting and it goes on for several minutes. Tom almost falls off from his crouched position from boredom. Perhaps Longbottom really needed help?

Tom lets out a relieved breath.

Still, it would be better to stay just to be sure.

And then it comes.

"You see, Hermione, there's one more reason I called you here today."

Tom stiffens.

"Oh? What's that?"

There's the sound of shifting.

"I- I like you. And I want us to be more than just friends."

He clenches his fists and tries breathing exercises to calm himself down.

_In._

_Out._

_In._

_Out._

He grinds his teeth, and Tom's whole body shakes from trying to keep himself still. If he lunges at them, he doesn't know what will happen. He'll either strangle Longbottom or _Avada_ him.

"I'm sorry, Neville," Hermione says. "But I can't accept your feelings."

Tom's hand creeps into his pocket, where his wand lies.

Torture? Or kill?

Torture seems the best option. He can hear his screams that way, revel in it.

Longbottom would claw his eyes out, and Tom would slice his fingers while he does that. After the torture session, he would finally end Longbottom's agony with the Killing Curse.

He would be Tom's first kill.

"Why?" Longbottom asks.

_Because you're a foolish boy._

He peeks to where they are, to know where to point his wand, and sees-

Hermione laying a hand on Longbottom's arm.

He digs his teeth onto his lip until he tastes blood. Red fills his vision.

She- she's _touching_ Longbottom after he confessed his romantic feelings for her.

His target shifts from Longbottom to Hermione.

If he kills her now, no one would have her. _Longbottom_ won't ever have her.

It's okay. If she gets a clean death from his Killing Curse, he'll research on ways on how to preserve bodies. He'll find a way to preserve her forever so she won't ever rot and she won't ever leave him. She _can't_.

"I already have someone I love."

Tom stills his hand.

He loves her too.

That's why he wants to kill her. He has to have _all_ of her. Even her death.

Her last breath should be by his hands. Her life is his, her everything is his. Now and forever.

But now isn't the time.

They haven't even reached their 17th birthday yet.

He will kill Longbottom.

That's decided.

And now Tom has to prepare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh. Neville's in trouble.
> 
> I really wanted to post what happens after Neville's confession but it was too long and I haven't finished it yet. So see you next week guys. Or tomorrow. Because I will be editing the 2nd chapter of Friendzone tomorrow then post it (which isn't even supposed to have a second chapter but then I got a plot bunny for it.)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I once thought this was going to be a 10k oneshot. Then I realized that it’s going to be more than that so I said 3 chapters, maybe 4. Now I say what the fuck.

Tom halts his studies of law and Legilimency. Longbottom is his first priority. He must be eliminated immediately.

He doesn’t tell Hermione his plan to kill Longbottom, of course. She would go bonkers if he did. However, he won’t be able to keep it a secret once he murders the boy, but once that happens, Longbottom won’t be his problem anymore.

Hermione might cry, which infuriates Tom just thinking about it. Why should she waste her tears on that pathetic boy? It’s not as if he’s important. What else does he offer to Hermione besides his uselessness?

But that’s a problem for later. His first concern for now is how he’ll murder Neville Longbottom.

Tom wants his first kill to be special. It needs to be his first Killing Curse.

But how will he do it? Will he hurt him first? Let him struggle, let him beg for mercy, and give him hope that he still has a chance to live?

Or will Tom do it quickly, have him unsuspecting. Let it be a surprise! Like a gift.

He has two options and he would love nothing more than to do both, but Longbottom only has one life.

How unfortunate.

After that, Tom will need to have an alibi and a reason for Longbottom’s death.

The Killing Curse leaves limited options for him: heart attack, asthma, nightmare, or other natural causes, or maybe poisoning from the fumes from Potions class. Because everyone knows that Longbottom’s potions are all poisons anyway.

Unless he can make it _not_ look like the Killing Curse.

Now then, Tom would have already gotten up from his seat in the library to fetch a book on the Forbidden Forest had Ginevra not have been in his and Hermione’s table. No one, except for his sister, must see him researching on the creatures of the Forbidden Forest.

Tom has been spending time with Ginevra Weasley lately in the library to Hermione’s displeasure. He has been letting her see his interactions with his sister to test her reaction on the guise of helping her with her studies.

She’s also there so he can ask about the Weasley twins and their inventions. He has become fond of them, after all.

But Hermione is annoyed. And jealous.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione asks rather rudely.

Tom still hasn’t yet told Hermione about the guinea pig plan because he forgets it at times, his mind not really categorizing it as important.

Ginevra’s eyes got to Tom before quickly glancing away. “I just… wanted to get help from er- you two with my essay.”

Hermione stiffens and Tom quirks a brow. Does she think that Ginevra fancies him?

“I’ll help you,” he says. He changes seats so he’s beside her and winks at Hermione behind Ginevra’s head. He did say that she has a lot of groveling to do.

It would be interesting to see Hermione’s jealousy, let her feel what he feels whenever he sees her with Potter and Weasley.

She glares at him before furiously writing on her parchment. It tears and Hermione curses.

He lays a hand on the back of Ginevra’s chair to give the illusion that he’s comfortable with her without touching her. It’s mostly for Hermione’s sake, Tom thinks, snickering inside.

He glances at his sister to see her glaring holes into his hand, not concentrating on her homework anymore.

Satisfied that he got his desired reaction, he finally focuses on tutoring Ginevra.

The parts that she needed help on today are awfully easy that Tom could have answered them in his sleep. Is Ginevra this stupid or is she just pretending for some other reason? Either option is disgusting.

He drops hints that Hermione would have had no trouble with the parts that she has difficulties with and she doesn’t appreciate it. She hides her hurt by making strained chuckles.

Hermione steps on his toes at his comments because despite being jealous, she still doesn’t like it when people get hurt when she thinks they don’t deserve it.

She still gives dark looks toward Ginevra when the girl isn’t aware, however.

Honestly, how can she think that Ginevra is attracted to him?

Finally, Ginevra finishes her essay. She rolls up her parchment and says, “Thank you, Tom, for your help.”

Tom nods. “You’re welcome.” He goes back to his own studies, dismissing her.

She stands and puts the parchment into her bag. She clears her throat, debating something inside her head. “Er…” She bends down.

Then kisses his cheek.

Hermione’s quill snaps.

Tom jumps in his seat, shocked by her actions.

_Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck._

**_Disgusting_** **.** _Absolutely revolting._

The shameless harlot waves to them. “Goodbye, you two- and thank you again, Tom.” Then she finally leaves.

Once she’s out of his vision, he immediately gets his handkerchief out of his pocket and rubs her wet kiss off from his cheek.

 _Disgustingdisgustingdisgusting_.

Tom shudders.

He’s going to be sick.

He scrubs off her dirt until his cheek is red. He wants to scratch it off until it’s bleeding, until no remnant of her kiss is left.

A visit to the Prefect’s Bathroom needs to be done. _Now._

“I need you to obliviate that from me,” Tom says, still rubbing his cheek with a handkerchief. He shifts his attention from his cheek to his sister.

And sees her seething with rage.

She hasn’t stopped sending deadly glares to the direction Ginevra left in. Ink has spilled on her parchment yet she doesn’t seem to have noticed.

Her snapped quill digs into her trembling palm, her blood mixing with the ink.

Tom’s lips part in surprise.

Of course, Hermione’s no different from him when it comes to jealousy.

He hopes she teaches Ginevra a lesson.

“Hermione?” he calls.

She levels her glare on him.

“She went too far,” she snarls. “And you allowed her to think it was okay.”

Tom draws back, offended. “ _I_ allowed? Do you want to know how disgusted I am right now?” He scratches his cheek until trails of red form. “ _I_ want to claw the spot she kissed.”

 _Merlin_ , he’s getting goosebumps just thinking about it. He should have slapped her.

Tom springs from his seat, the chair scraping harshly against the floor. Someone shushes him but Tom merely ignores the person. They have to go to the Prefect’s Bathroom _now_.

“Let’s go,” he waves at her to follow. “You have to clean me.”

It has to be Hermione who cleans him. She has to replace Ginevra’s touch with hers.

She packs up her things and they leave the library.

They enter the Prefect’s Bathroom and she washes him thoroughly.

Everything is right again, Tom thinks. Only Hermione can touch him like that, and only he can touch Hermione that way too.

But Ginevra isn’t finished. She comes by their table to keep asking for Tom’s help, moving her chair close to his until their arms touch.

Hermione volunteers to help her and Ginevra has no choice but to accept without making herself look ungrateful. Though Tom has noticed that Hermione purposely gives wrong information to the girl sometimes.

She asks him why he still accepts her company when it’s obvious that Ginevra fancies him and he admits to using the Weasley girl as a guinea pig.

Hermione sniffs. _Well, you’ll have to find another one._

If Ginevra proves to be so annoying he can’t take it then he will. But for now, he’ll endure because he has spent a lot of time preparing her.

What Tom isn’t telling Hermione, however, is that he enjoys her become green with jealousy.

It’s a bit funny, now that he thinks about it, that Hermione is currently burning with jealousy of Ginevra as he is with Longbottom.

Every time he sees Longbottom with her, he has to clench his fists or grab something that isn’t his wand because he might just kill the boy with an _Avada_ at the wrong time.

Whenever no one can see him, he slips into the section of the library where there are books on the creatures of the Forbidden Forest.

He has two choices: torture Longbottom in the Chamber before ending his misery or cast the Killing Curse on him while he suspects nothing.

If he does the first, then Tom will hear Longbottom beg. He would be in so much agony that the Killing Curse would be a blessing.

Which isn’t what Tom wants.

The Killing Curse shouldn’t be treated as kindness after so much torment. If Tom is going to do his first choice, then the torture should be endless, never stopping until Longbottom loses his mind, until all he can think of is pain.

Tom will make him regret confessing to Hermione.

The second one is simple. He will lure Longbottom to the Chamber, have him meet the Basilisk, and give him a tour, as if he’s a friend. He’ll be unsuspecting, naive, and friendly. Then Tom will stare at him in the eye before casting the Killing Curse and watch as betrayal flashes into his expression before life goes out from him.

Tom will revel in it.

Then he’ll take Longbottom’s eyes as a souvenir. That’s the outcome for both scenarios.

He searched in the library on ways to preserve body parts but found nothing. So now he’s here in the library of the Chamber with Hermione, where there’s a book about it.

After killing Longbottom, he will have to dispose of him in the Forbidden Forest, let the school think that he went to do idiot things like the idiot he is. Professor Snape, their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, will at least believe that.

It’s not a foolproof plan.

In fact, what Tom is planning is irrational, almost as idiotic as Longbottom.

_But he shouldn’t have confessed to Hermione._

He shouldn’t have tried to get in between them, shouldn’t have tried to be something more that he’s not.

And now that will cost his life.

He looks over at Hermione who’s laying against the arm of the couch they’re sitting on. Her feet rest on his lap.

It’s time to confront her about Longbottom.

He opens his mouth to say _What did you feel when Longbottom confessed to you?_ to reveal that he overheard their conversation, that he knows what she’s hiding from him for days now.

But Hermione beats him to it.

“Neville confessed to me,” she starts, not meeting his eyes. “Last week.”

Tom sucks in a breath, surprised that she told him first before he had to force it out from her.

After a second, he says, “I know.”

Hermione laughs but there’s no humor to it. “Of course you know.”

There are a few beats of silence where Hermione watches him for any reaction. Tom stares at the wall, his expression blank, as he attempts to control the anger simmering just inside him from remembering the confession.

“What did you feel?” Tom spats. “When your _friend_ wanted to be something _more?_ ” He closes his book and levitates it to a bookshelf.

“I-“ She looks away. “I felt bad. Because he’s my friend.”

She _felt bad_.

Of course, goody-goody Hermione _feels bad_ for rejecting Longbottom.

“I felt bad because I was disgusted,” she whispers, ashamed.

Tom freezes.

“Why were you disgusted?” he asks. Then he caresses the feet on his lap, the simmering anger in his heart quiets a bit at her admission.

Hermione lets out a shaky breath. “When he confessed, all I could think about was how it was so _wrong_. He shouldn’t like me like that. Only you-” She hesitates. “Just- think how you felt when Ginny kissed your cheek.”

He stares at her, his eyes going over her guilty expression.

“And what did you feel when Ginevra kissed my cheek?”

She bites her lip and looks down. “I wanted to hurt her,” she mumbles.

“I want to hurt Longbottom too,” he admits. Not just hurt but _damage_ him beyond repair. “I want to make him pay.”

She glares at him, her face clearing of her guilt. “Don’t hurt Neville.”

He raises his brows and widens his eyes, the very picture of innocence. “Who said I will? I only said I want to.”

“I mean it, Tom,” she says but he only hums in reply.

Hermione sighs resignedly. “I won’t be able to stop you, will I?”

No. She won’t. But she only assumes that he’s going to rough up Longbottom a little bit like he did Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy. What he’s going to do is far worse.

“What will you do?” she asks, her curiosity getting the better of her. “So I can warn Neville.”

He’s going to commit murder.

But he can’t lie to Hermione so he says, “You’ll see.”

He notices Hermione about to push him for answers so he immediately thinks of a way to distract her.

He remembers his promise to show her what he learned about her body.

“Would you like to do something else besides talking about Longbottom and Ginevra?”

She takes her feet away from him so she can sit up to better talk to him. “You’re not getting away so easily, Tom,” she says. “Tell me.”

Seeing that Hermione continues to be stubborn, he levitates her book away from her and slides closer to her. Her legs are over his lap and he smooths his hands over them, sliding his palms from her calf to her thighs.

She raises her hand to either stop him or grab him for a kiss.

“You know what I’m going to tell you?” he says. “I’m going to tell you that Ginevra tried to touch me even back at the Burrow.”

She goes with the latter.

Hermione grabs him by the back of his neck and crushes her lips to his. She bites his lip in retaliation to his frustrating loud mouth and Tom grins in victory.

Diversion successful.

“You’re a prat,” she says against his mouth.

Now on to his skills.

He lifts her legs from his lap and positions them so she’s underneath him on the couch. Their lips barely part from each other even with all the maneuvering.

“I want to try something.” His fingers brush the edges of her skirt, the heated skin on her thighs.

He pushes her skirt up to her hips until he sees her knickers. There’s a small wet spot at the center and Tom licks his lips, the desire to taste it suddenly flaring inside him.

But he isn’t here for that today. He’s here to see if his experiments on himself will prove useful to him and Hermione.

Hermione moans when he shoves down her knickers to her feet. He throws it away somewhere in the room and forgets about it once he sees Hermione’s entrance.

He has seen it countless times but they were usually in non-sexual situations. He has played with it through Polyjuice but he has never touched Hermione’s own with pleasure in mind.

He practiced for this.

He grazes the lips of her cunt with a fingernail at first, testing her reaction.

“ _Ah!”_

He doesn’t insert his finger immediately, he has experienced firsthand how weird and slightly painful it feels when he suddenly shoves a finger in there with no preparation.

He starts playing with her clit and her outer lips and watches Hermione shiver, jump, and moan. Once she’s ready, he inserts a finger into her.

It will feel strange at first since her entrance is unused to being filled with something. Soon, however, it will feel better.

He watches her reactions with eyes like a hawk, studying her every shiver, her lip bites, the curling of her toes, her _everything_.

He adds another finger.

She whines.

Longbottom will never have this. He will make sure of that.

Only Tom can see his sister like this, all spread out for him, vulnerable and trusting. She looks so lewd like this, so _dirty_.

He can’t control his panting and it annoys him because it interferes with hearing Hermione’s moans. He bites his lip but his breath still comes out noisily.

Will Hermione do this again with him, but in front of Longbottom’s corpse?

Longbottom would still be warm, as warm as Hermione’s cunt. And while she would still be wrapped around his fingers, singing in pleasure for him, he’d stare at Longbottom’s dead eyes.

He would ensure that Longbottom faces them, looking at them but seeing nothing. He won’t see Hermione like this because he would be dead.

This time, Tom can’t control the moan that comes out from him.

Oh, he just can’t wait to kill Longbottom.

* * *

Tom contemplates on whether to do it in front of Hermione.

He has been fantasizing about it for a while, torturing Longbottom while Hermione watches. Because does she know the extent of his obsession with her? He would kill for her, he would kill _her_ , because she is his in every way.

No one comes between them. Not even her.

And especially not Ginevra Weasley.

“I like you, Tom,” she says, and then she goes on and on about his good qualities and how he always helps her. That’s not true. “And I mean that not as a friend, but as something more.” She takes his hand in hers.

Tom feels a sense of déjà vu.

 _He shouldn’t like me like that. Only you-_ Hermione told him before about Longbottom. _Just- think about how you felt when Ginny kissed your cheek._

It’s like his skin is crawling with bugs. He’s getting goosebumps from her confession and he wants to scrub his whole body off Ginevra’s presence.

Tom has always known that he’s popular but this is the first time someone told him about their attraction to him. He underestimated what his reaction to it will be.

Bile rises in his throat and if he even opens his mouth to reply to her, he might just throw up on her.

_So this is what Hermione felt._

He forces his lips to curve into a smile.

Is his expression apologetic enough? Or should he furrow his eyebrows more?

Ginevra’s face falls and it seems that Tom succeeded in morphing his features into something that isn’t in disdain.

“I’m sorry but I can’t accept your feelings,” he says, not sorry at all. “I’m already in love with someone else.”

Ginevra nods in understanding. She lets go of his hand and Tom can’t help himself from wiping it on his robes.

She notices that and looks away in embarrassment.

“Who is it?” she asks, curious as to who obtained the heart of Tom Riddle.

“My sister.”

Ginevra blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m in love with my sister which is why I can’t reciprocate your feelings.” He should tell her what he told Potter back at the Burrow, make her sympathetic so she’ll accept their relationship.

She’s a guinea pig, he reminds himself.

But he leaves without explaining further, too disgusted to consider talking with her more, and leaves a shocked Ginevra behind.

Tom wipes his hand on his robes again.

He has to find Hermione, needs her to clean him again. They need to deal with Ginevra too, make her go away if she still persists.

It turns out that Hermione isn’t too far. She’s just behind an alcove near them, her arms crossed, burning holes through the wall opposite her.

The hallway is empty so Ginevra’s confession could have been heard clearly.

His sister had been listening in.

He strides over to her and cups her cheek with a single hand. He doesn’t touch her with the one that Ginevra held.

He takes her mouth with his, needing her after what just happened. He pours all of his frustration to her in that kiss, his frustration with both Ginevra and Longbottom who both thought they could be something more.

Hermione moans when he tangles his fingers through her hair, tugging on it. He licks her bottom lip, prompting her to open up. He sucks on her tongue, tasting her lunch, tasting _her._

He hears a gasp behind him.

 _Ginevra_.

Hermione only clutches his sides tighter in a possessive grip.

Tom pulls away just to see what her reaction will be in front of Ginevra and she grabs him by the hair to yank him back toward her and shoves her tongue inside his mouth.

He traps her further against the alcove, hiding her from Ginevra. Only he can see Hermione like this but he will make an exception just this once to prove a point to Ginevra.

Hermione is _his_.

Tom peeks at Hermione to find that she has opened her eyes. But she isn’t looking at him. She’s looking straight at Ginevra, locking eyes with her.

What possessive twins they both are.

Ginevra runs, her footsteps disappearing until only the twins are alone.

They part for air though their mouths are still an inch away from each other.

He raises a brow to Hermione. “Prefect’s Bathroom?”

She nods, breathing heavily. “Prefect’s Bathroom.” She eyes his hand in distaste.

But then she changes her mind and says, “Actually, maybe later.”

He frowns. “What? Didn’t you see her grab my hand?”

Her face darkens at that. She loosens her hold on him, extricating herself from him, and she pats herself down until her clothes are presentable. “I’m going to find her.”

Tom sighs in annoyance. “And what are you going to do?” He can’t believe Hermione is prioritizing Ginevra after what just happened.

“I- I don’t know.” She looks determined though. “Something not good. Maybe jinx her hair as retaliation. You’re not the only possessive one here, you know.”

Yes, he knows.

But unless she kills Ginevra, Tom isn’t going to let her go.

“No. You’re coming with me.” He grabs her arm to start pulling her toward the stairs, opposite where Ginevra ran so they can make their way to the bathroom.

Hermione tugs her arm away from him. “No!” she shouts, taking quick steps backward. “I’m getting my revenge like you’ll get revenge on Neville.”

He doubts that what she intends to do to Ginevra is on the same level as what he’s going to do to Longbottom, though he appreciates the thought.

He’d appreciate it better that she focuses on him, however.

“My revenge isn’t so lame like jinxing someone’s hair,” he jabs.

“Well, I’m not as evil as you,” she says before running after Ginevra.

Tom sighs but leaves her be. When Hermione puts her mind to something, almost no one can stop her. He hopes she hurts Ginevra badly enough though.

But now he’s in a bad mood. He was just confessed to and now his sister left him.

He stomps over the direction of the Chamber of Secrets. Reading book on the Dark Arts might just make his bad mood go away.

He goes down the stairs, passing through corridors, passing by Longbottom-

Passing by _Longbottom_.

Tom grins.

He knows just what will cheer him up.

* * *

“Why are we in the girls’ bathroom?” Longbottom asks. “And where’s Hermione?”

Hermione won’t be here, unfortunately. She won’t be able to enjoy Longbottom’s demise, too busy doing who knows what to Ginevra.

“Do you know the Chamber of Secrets, Neville?” Tom asks. He trails a finger over the tap where the entrance of the Chamber is hidden.

“No,” Longbottom replies, still confused why they’re in a bathroom. “What is it?”

“I’ll show it to you.”

He pats the tap fondly before hissing _open_.

The entrance to the Chamber moves into place, revealing the huge pipe, and Longbottom’s mouth falls open.

“Wha- what’s down there?”

“Salazar Slytherin’s secret chamber.” _Do_ keep up, Longbottom.

“After you.” Tom gestures to Longbottom to slide first. “Hermione is just below, waiting for you.”

Longbottom gulps before taking hesitant steps toward the hole. He sits down on the edge of the pipe, gathering his courage, and Tom is tempted to push him just for the fun of it.

Longbottom forces a smile. “Well, I’ll meet you and Hermione down there.” He slides down until he disappears from Tom’s view.

Tom laughs because Longbottom is just so _stupid_.

He follows after the boy immediately lest he wanders off. It would not be ideal if he meets the Basilisk and makes eye contact with it. He would die from the Basilisk and not from Tom’s wand, which isn’t his plan.

When he arrives at the bottom, he finds Longbottom looking around in awe.

 “There was something like this beneath Hogwarts all this time?” he says.

“Yes.” Tom walks ahead of him and proceeds to open the next door with Parseltongue. “Close your eyes. Slytherin’s Basilisk resides in this Chamber.”

Longbottom’s eyes widen, which is the opposite of what Tom just told him. He even daringly peeks inside the hall.

Tom rolls his eyes. _Gryffindors._

Once Longbottom hears the Basilisk’s hiss though, he shuts his eyes tight.

Tom puts a hand on his shoulder, the one Ginevra held because it’s been dirtied anyway, and guides him through the hall and toward the prison. “Keep your eyes closed, okay?”

 _I have a surprise for you_.

“Where’s Hermione?” Longbottom asks.

“She’ll come later.”

“But I thought you said she was here?”

Did he? Tom forgot from all his excitement.

The Basilisk uncoils from its sleeping position and watches them with curious eyes. “ _Who isss thisss?_ ” It slithers toward them to further see the boys.

Longbottom jumps. “What was that?”

Tom winks at the Basilisk. “ _He’s my prisoner._ ” Then he addresses said prisoner. “That was the Basilisk. If you meet his eyes, you’ll die, so be careful.”

“Hogwarts has been keeping a creature so dangerous?” Longbottom asks incredulously.

Tom ignores him and makes a small cut on his finger with his wand. He activates the metal bars of the prison and he can’t keep himself from grinning.

Today is the day when he will finally eliminate Longbottom.

Oh, how he waited for this day to come, ever since their first year.

He keeps guiding Longbottom until they arrive by the shackles. It’s still as long as how he and Hermione found it before but Tom was able to figure out how to shorten them.

He picks them up and tests the weight of them in his hands. Longbottom may be larger than he is but he won’t be able to escape from them. The shackles are enchanted, nothing but his blood, willingly given, will open it.

“Open your eyes,” he commands.

Longbottom’s eyes flutter open and Tom clamps down the shackles onto his wrists.

His surprised gasp turns into a grunt of pain when Tom jabs his wand to the handcuffs. The length of the chains shortens and Longbottom’s arms jerk to the wall until his arms are stretched over his head, straining.

“What are you doing?!” He struggles with the handcuffs and the chains.

Isn’t it obvious? No wonder Longbottom is failing all his classes. There he is, trapped and shackled, yet he’s still asking what Tom is doing?

Someone so stupid doesn’t deserve Hermione.

“I’m trapping you here,” says Tom. His eyes go over Longbottom’s figure with wide eyes. He’s on his tiptoes to lessen the strain on his wrists and if the chains shorten even more, his shoulder might just dislocate.

Tom waves his wand.

The scream that emanates from Longbottom is music to Tom’s ears. He isn’t on his tiptoes anymore, the shackles are doing all the lifting now.

“See you in a few,” Tom says before he leaves the prison.

“No no no no- don’t leave! Why are you doing this?!” Longbottom yells.

Tom doesn’t answer, he merely unlocks the metal bars to reach the fourth room, where the dark artifacts are.

Longbottom doesn’t have to worry about using the artifacts on him, Tom is just going to pick up a container he prepared to preserve ingredients. To preserve body parts.

After pocketing it, he moves to the library, eager to start on his Legilimency studies now that Longbottom is taken care of. He’ll come back later once he’s had his dinner.

 _One must make eye contact before casting the spell_.

“Let me out! Please!”

 _The most advanced Legilimens can perform Legilimency nonverbally and wandlessly_.

“Tom, please- my arms hurt so bad! Please!”

Ahh… Music to his ears.

Tom keeps reading until he finishes one chapter. He checks the time and sees that it’s almost dinner so he returns the book on Legilimency to the bookshelf.

He leaves the library and waves goodbye to both Longbottom and the Basilisk.

“I’ll be back. Don’t be naughty and try to leave, okay?” Tom can’t help but be playful. He wags a finger too.

He comes up for dinner because Tom has a feeling that it will be a long but enjoyable night for him and he doesn’t want to go hungry down in the Chamber.

Should he invite Hermione down there too?

She is at the Gryffindor table, exchanging dark looks with Ginevra.

Nothing seems different with the Weasley girl so Hermione might not have gotten her revenge yet. If their glaring is any indication, however, it looks like they have already spoken to each other.

Well, in that case, Tom won’t interfere with her revenge as he has only found out how enjoyable it is.

 _Have fun, Hermione_.

After dinner, he goes back to Longbottom.

He’s sobbing, begging Tom to release him. He has his wand in his hand, most likely wandlessly summoned it in desperation earlier.

Tom confiscates it from him because Longbottom will use it against him later if he drops his guard.

“What will I do to you, I wonder?”

The Cruciatus or the Killing Curse? Perhaps he’d let Longbottom choose.

It really is a pity that humans only have one life. Tom would have liked to do this one more time with Longbottom.

“ _Avada_?” Longbottom violently shakes his head. “Or _Crucio_?”

“Don’t- don’t kill me!”

Cruciatus it is then.

“ _Crucio!_ ”

Longbottom’s guttural screams echo in the Chamber. His eyes roll back to his head, which is a pity because Tom would like to stare at them while he tortures the boy.

“Look at me and I might just stop torturing you,” Tom lies.

Longbottom forces himself to look at his tormentor, not able to do anything but listen to him. He sways against the wall, violent spasms going through him.

Green eyes stare in his general direction. He can’t directly make eye contact, the pain too much to be able to focus on anything.

Tom watches it all in pleasure.

Then Longbottom’s eyes slip shut.

“ _Look at me!_ ”

Tom puts more power into his Cruciatus as a warning but Longbottom only squeezes his eyes closed, as if it will shut him out from all the agonizing pain he’s experiencing.

Tom stops the spell and Longbottom slumps in relief.

If he won’t open his eyes then that means he doesn’t have any use for them anymore, right?

Tom walks toward him and lifts his hand.

His fingers touch Longbottom’s right eyelid, feeling his lashes, soft against the pads of his fingers. He probes it and it offers resistance.

“No no Tom don’t-”

He pushes.

Longbottom screams and kicks him in the stomach, but Tom has already dug in his fingers.

The eyeball separates from its socket, bloody, wet, and warm.

“ _AAAAAHHH! IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS-_ ”

He isn’t so amused with Longbottom’s voice now. In this distance, it’s deafening.

Nevertheless, he got what he wanted.

Tom examines the green of its iris and the veins that came along when he wrenched it out of the socket.

 _Now he won’t look at Hermione with this eye anymore,_ Tom thinks. And then he jolts at the reminder that he’s been doing this for Hermione. He has been having too much fun that he forgot his purpose here.

But it doesn’t hurt to play some more, right?

He places the eye into the container he prepared before returning to his prisoner.

The next few minutes are spent casting the Cruciatus at Longbottom, whose voice has gone from all the crying he did earlier and Tom gets bored easily since Longbottom isn’t noisy anymore.

It’s finally time.

“Would you like to know why I’m doing this?” Tom asks.

Longbottom doesn’t respond. He hasn’t been reacting much anymore.

Boring.

Still, Tom continues. “I’ve wanted to kill you since first year. You kept asking Hermione for help, growing closer to her, becoming _friends,_ ” Tom spats. “And you thought you could be more?” Ridiculous, how ridiculous.

Tom shrugs. “So now I’m going to kill you.”

He raises his wand to Longbottom’s chest, touching him with it. His breaths are shaky and shallow and Tom’s wand follows its rhythm.

His lone eye peeks at Tom. His mouth moves, unable to voice anything anymore, and Tom reads his lips.

_Hermione will never love a monster like you._

Tom gives him a sweet smile.

“ _Avada Kedavra._ ”

* * *

The skin is still warm.

The eye stares blankly.

His jaw is slack.

Longbottom is dead and Tom gazes at him in wonder.

He unshackled the corpse earlier to see him drop like a sack of potatoes, to see him drop dead.

The clock ticks by and Tom does nothing but stare at Longbottom.

He stares and he stares and he stares.

Just a little while ago, Longbottom’s chest rose and fell for each breath he took. Now it’s silent. He will be like this now and forever.

“Hey,” Tom calls. But he knows that Longbottom won’t answer. He hears nothing, smells nothing, sees nothing, and feels nothing.

 _He_ is nothing.

Tom’s heart starts pounding against his chest.

Not from excitement, no.

But from fear.

Is that what it means to die? To be like that?

Longbottom is so… empty.

Tom peels back his eyelids.

Both are empty.

The other one may have an eye but does it register anything other than darkness? It sees the same as the other eye in Tom’s container: nothing.

He takes a step back. His hand trembles and-

Tom doesn’t want to die.

He doesn’t want to die.

Tom gasps. Suddenly it’s harder to breathe.

No. He doesn’t want to-

He hears the sound of stone sliding against stone.

The entrance of the Chamber is opened.

_Hermione?_

No! He isn’t ready yet! He has to clean up Longbottom’s body, he has to make it look like he gave the boy a clean death for Hermione.

But Tom is frozen in place. He can’t stop staring at the corpse. He can’t stop hyperventilating.

On the background, he hears sobbing.

“ _Who isss thisss?”_

Hermione brought someone? Then he has to hide the body.

But he can’t move. He coughs, his breaths come out in short bursts, but he can’t move a muscle.

“Tom? Is that you?” A sniff. “What are you doing- oh.”

There are a few beats of silence where Hermione registers the body in front of him, absorbing the fact Longbottom isn’t merely unconscious, that he’s missing an eye.

He’s dead.

An anguished cry tears from Hermione’s throat. “Is he-?” She couldn’t finish.

It takes a while for Tom to answer but he replies nevertheless.

“Yes.”

Her companion is oddly silent. As silent as Longbottom while Hermione sobs.

“Tom…” Hermione cries. “I did something too.”

He hears Hermione drop something to the ground.

“Please look at me.”

But he can’t move. He merely stands there frozen.

He starts with his fingers, twitching them. Then his toes, until he can move his whole feet.

Tom turns around as soon as he is able to but his heart still won’t calm down.

What he sees makes it skip a beat.

There is Ginevra Weasley on the floor.

Dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so bad about Neville and Ginny. They didn’t deserve that ;_; On the brightside though, Tom finally got his first kill and his first eye!
> 
> Anyway, I won’t be able to post next week or next next week because l.i.f.e. but if anyone wants to ask me something, I’m ieatpeoplewhenimangry on tumblr.


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